The Force Wills - Chapter 54 (Patreon)

The following morning after an hour’s meditation and blissful sleep I was back in Padme’s quarters.

I couldn’t help but feel internally amused and somewhat marveled at the fact that I could feel that way, considering what would most likely happen. No need for gazing into the future for this. I was a sixteen year old togruta girl, who had admitted that I felt love for a human woman of twenty-five, who was secretly married to my own master. The best I could hope for is that Padme would go about this gently and not tear me metaphorically to pieces.

The outfit she had chosen for the occasion wasn’t helping. It was a figure hugging, silver dress edged with gold, and her hair had been done up into a long weave ponytail that was further clipped into a bun on the back of her head, from a tiara, a long ultra thin cloak or veil hung behind her, which seemed to perfectly catch the sun, giving the effect… No, don’t go there.

She even had a cup of the best Alderani caf waiting for me to drink, whilst she had tea for herself.

She gave me a rueful half-smile as I began drinking.

“I suppose I should take the lead here,” she said after taking a delicate sip. “As you can imagine, since I became Queen of Naboo and during my time in the Senate, I’ve been the subject of quite a few affections and propositions. Most were simply political maneuvers in the end, those who weren’t, well you already know how two of them turned out.” I nodded; Rush Clovis and Anakin. “I’ll admit that it is flattering and it does stroke the ego. I know how blessed I am, Ahsoka.” Of course she did. “That can also be something of a curse. As I leave behind me broken hearts when I can’t reciprocate or give them what they want. I feel wretched when this happens, as if I’m the one at fault, that I’m being selfish.” Her bitterness was palpable. “Then I catch myself thinking, maybe it would be better to not be so attractive or beautiful.”

I could only feel horror at the idea that she would think that, but I could intellectually see where she was coming from.

“Of course, then reality sets in and I play with the hand I’ve been given. What am I going to do? Get a biosculpt on Hosnian to look ugly?” she asked sarcastically, then took another sip of tea. “I think you realize how impossible it would be for me or you, to reciprocate to each other these feelings. Yes, to me you are one of the best female friends I have, Ahsoka. Someone who knows the truth, helped me and Anakin in ways that we probably haven’t even scratched the surface of.” I could only nod and bore the feeling of my stomach trying to sink through the floor stoically. “It wouldn’t be fair of me to pull you into a triad relationship, which is what it would end up being at the end of the day, nevermind what would happen should it see the light of day.”

“The difference between twelve torpedoes hitting a ship or twenty four. In either case, you’re haran, sorry, I mean… everything falls apart, sort of.” I really wish Basic had better expressive swearing ability, so I either fell back to Mando’a or Togruti.

“Precisely, you wouldn’t be doing yourself any favors either in the long run. One day you might meet that special someone who truly captures your heart and find yourself stuck and resentful. You haven’t truly lived out here in the big galaxy yet. For the longest time you were cloistered in the Jedi Temple, then you’re out here fighting a war. I know from what you shared that somehow you… are much older in spirit, but with regards to this, it doesn’t matter.”

My caf nearly went down the wrong pipe. “You managed to understand?”

Padme looked at me with an odd fascination, “I think so. It’s not something easily put into words. When you shared your feelings, it was just a conclusion that struck me. That this was not the emotions of a sixteen year old, but someone much older than that.”

“You wish to know why you get that impression?” She nodded. This might as well happen now, we were already in heart-to-heart sharing mode. “Imagine, that you go on and live your life to the fullest. You live to the ripe old age of roughly a century.” That was generally the unassisted human life expectancy on a world like Corellia. “You die, only you find it’s not the end. You can’t think as such, you just know you are there, you exist, you drift along the currents of the Force and then one day, you blink and can think again, you realize… you have eyes, lungs, a body, you can think again. You are infantile, again. You have a young mother, again. A father, again. You are in a different world. You look up into the sky, the stars are totally unfamiliar, the galaxy is different.”

I met her eyes and dropped a number of my masks. I wore my spiritual age for the briefest of moments openly to her. Her eyes widened and she now looked at me with wonder. “That happened to you?”

I sat back, pulling my masks back on, returning to show the galaxy a 16 year old togruta Jedi padawan. “Yes,” I said simply.

She continued staring. “How truly old would you say you are?”

“I can’t really say for certain. If I want to be specific, by adding the two lives together, 110 years.”

My family had been quite long lived in my previous life, my grandparents and parents reaching their late nineties. I had managed a decent ninety-four before I slipped away from that life.

A long silence descended as Padme simply took that in and tried to comprehend that she was speaking with someone who had actually lived two lives and wasn’t bullshitting about it. She could at least sense that clearly through the bond.

“Do the Jedi know?” she asked absently.

“There are two who know, due to their own talent in the Force and because I have a bond with one of them. They also know that it is an intensely personal thing and not to be spoken about idly or out of academic curiosity,” I said, giving Padme the full weight of my presence briefly through the Force.

She nearly dropped the cup and it was only rescued when I stabilized it with a small pinpoint bit of TK. She rescued it and let her eyes fall to the floor. “So Anakin doesn’t know?”

I sighed wearily, “Due to his circumstances and his relation to the enemy, I didn’t dare. He has, however, recently been armed and made wise, you could say. So my excuses are running out, for I am his padawan, he is my master. I have grown close to him and I will freely admit that I also love him. No doubt he will be quite upset at first, until he realizes this is actually dangerous knowledge.”

She frowned in thought for a moment before nodding, “Knowledge of what actually lies after death?”

“That is one aspect, yes. There’s also how this shifts the understanding of the Force itself. The Jedi have forgotten much about the Force and how it relates to death. Circumstances will cause a ‘reeducation’ to happen, but my presence alone will hurry that along.”

“Ahsoka, what you’ve just told me… It’s not how I imagined this conversation going. I mean…”

The poor thing, she was floundering. It was not how I imagined it going either.

“Ignore that for now, we’re getting sidetracked. Right here and now, you must still make the rational decision.”

She put down the cup on the table and cradled her head in her hands. “You’re the older one here actually,” she protested weakly.

“It’s still your decision, I’m not going to make that for you. This is your life.”

“It’s yours too.”

“Yes, a romance is clearly out of the question, especially how it would look, for now. It would make things very awkward. However, if there’s one thing I can tell you Padme, is that change is constant and that love always finds a way.”

“Fine, yes, we obviously can’t,” she blurted with exasperation. “However, I don’t want you to sever the bond.”

I tried my best impression of a raised eyebrow, “Really?”

“If it does all you say, then it might be the difference between life and death in the coming years of the war. If I’m kidnapped, captured, more assassins… would you sense the threat to me clearer? Would you be able to speak to me through it, if I’m unable to get to a hypercom?”

“There are factors involved, but generally, yes. But what about Anakin? Your strengthened bond with him will allow for all that.”

“Yes, of course, but… what if he isn’t in a position to be able to help or is too far away at the time?”

Ah, so she’s worried about putting all her eggs in a single basket.

“Generally, he and I will be on assignment together, but lately it seems that there will be times where we are on our own missions, and that is only going to occur more often. There will be a price for this, Padme. You understand? The longer the bond stays, the harder it will be to remove. If I should die, it would create a gaping wound in our spirits that will never fully heal. If you die, I will experience the same.”

“Then it is a burden I will accept, Ahsoka.”

I put my cup down and stood, then walked over to her. She stood as well and I opened my palms to her.

She placed her hands in mine and I called on the Force, crystallizing the bond.

I nodded and took a step back. “It is done.”

“Thank you, Ahsoka. For your trust and understanding, I feel like I don’t deserve it. Well, we both have a busy day ahead of us.”

“Then let’s be about it.”

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I entered the observation room overlooking the interrogation of the two assassins.

They were kept in two separate rooms below, currently secured with handcuffs that were anchored to a central thick durasteel table, which was in turn anchored into the floor. Both were redressed in high visibility jumpsuits that sat awkwardly on their respective ‘alien’ physiologies.

The second assassin was truly not what you pictured when you thought of the word, but that was likely the whole point.

He was a Ssori, a diminutive species from the Outer Rim. This one stood barely three-quarters of a meter tall and now that he sat hunched miserably, made him seem positively tiny. Their heads were split into two large, stiff, ‘lekku’-like appendages, bright yellow eyes that almost looked like flashlights, an undulating neck, thin arms, and very long five fingered hands, all covered with leathery brown-gray skin.

“Good morning, Padawan Tano,” Typho greeted and looked up from a datapad.

“Captain Typho, how are things going?”

“Well, meet Seripas and Rumi Paramita,” he gestured to them both in turn. “Very limited records exist on both, but that’s mostly because they’ve been relatively behaving themselves until now. Both are actually legitimate bounty hunters.”

“Really? They’re in the Guild?”

“Yes, fully paid up and everything. Their last known job was just a few months ago. They accepted a contract to protect a farming village on Felucia. He and Rumi were part of a small group of bounty hunters who called themselves, Sugi’s Gang.”

“That’s a rather noble thing to do. How do they go from that to accepting an assassination contract on a senator of the Republic?”

“From our questioning of Seripas, who’s been the most cooperative, that last job didn’t go well.”

“What happened?”

“They fought against a pirate gang, who was regularly attacking a cluster of farms for the produce. They underestimated the strength of the pirates and ended up being killed, these two were the only survivors. Afterwards, they retreated and consolidated the gang’s collective assets, eventually the contract on Senator Amidala came up and the price offered was so high, they figured it would be just the thing to get them back on their feet.”

“So I assume this contract was not on the official bounty hunter boards?”

R3 had a program constantly scanning those boards for suspicious activity that could relate to anything that either influenced me, those close to me, certain select senators or the Jedi in general.

“Correct, it seems in this case, the only thing that got posted on the board was an offer to meet for a lucrative contract, to be discussed in person.”

A rather obvious method if you didn’t want to advertise that you had placed a hit on someone. Everyone knew that everyone else was monitoring the Bounty boards. Padme did not have a specific named bounty on her. Else R3 or HK would’ve already sounded the alarm to me. The RNSF also had a whole group devoted to trawling through the Holonet searching for threats to either the government, Padme or the current queen. That was why there was a ‘black’ bounty system as well.

“Who did they meet?”

“An anonymous representative of the true sponsor, who provided fifty percent of the money upfront and a stipend to acquire the technology to make the hit possible in the first place.”

I groaned in annoyance, “No further details?”

“No, the only thing they could conclude was that the representative was a human male. They didn’t think it worth trying to identify him, as that would’ve angered their new sponsor.”

“Well, that at least tells us something about this sponsor; if they’re so free with their money in order to make this happen - it speaks to someone who would be especially angry at the senator. This is personal, not ideological.”

“The list of people who would be so angry at Senator Amidala is not that long,” Typho mused in thought, tapping on his datapad with a renewed urgency.

I stood next to his shoulder and spied what he was referencing. “You actually have such a list?”

“It’s my job, Padawan Tano,” he said simply, giving me a stare with his patched eye.

“Any name that jumps out at you?” I asked with a smile.

“Not particularly. Nute Gunray definitely has the money angle covered.”

“While Gunray certainly views the senator as an enemy, it’s never been to the point where he’d go out of his way like this or spend this much on an assassination contract,” I said, as I scanned down the list. “You even have some senators on this.”

“The war has more than doubled the amount of names,” Typho grouched unhappily. “A number of senators who profit from the industries supporting the war, did not like it when Senator Amidala campaigned against the further expansion of the GAR. Their protests and words to her behind closed doors was enough to earn them a spot on this list.”

My mind recalled the overheard conversation that Seripas and Rumi had over the radio, just as the hit was about to happen.

“I think Seripas is not being complete with the truth. Yes, they probably met with a representative, but they also spoke to the sponsor at the same time. The rep was probably carrying a secure holocom to the meeting. Seripas said that the sponsor wouldn’t be happy with a kill using the shrapnel mine.”

Typho nodded, “That definitely indicates familiarity with the true culprit. Though I’m not sure why anyone would object to the method of killing someone they had put out a contract on.”

“It would either be a cultural aversion to such a messy death for the enemy or they want a recognizable image of the senator’s death, a sure confirmation, that could be transmitted or would reach them quickly.”

“That last one sounds about right,” Typho grinned and tapped on the datapad, refining his search to exclude some names.

“Going with your instincts, captain?”

“They’ve served me well over the years.”

I looked over the name list again and pointed to the one that my memories and Prescience was outright screaming at me, “That one.”

“Ziro? Why him?”

Ziro Desilijic Tiure, the nephew to Jabba, who had helped engineer the plot to have Jabba’s son and heir killed, whilst in league with the CIS and Count Dooku. He had been serving a rather lengthy prison term for abducting and imprisoning Padme, but had been freed forcefully by the now deceased Cad Bane some months ago.

“The Force, but I always like to get confirmation. There’s nothing worse you can do to a hutt than put them in a bare bones cell with no luxuries or amenities. Especially one who is as well connected and wealthy as Ziro still is. He actually outright owns several star systems in hutt space and has sat on the Hutt Cartel Council. Now the question remains, are these two the only ones he’s hired?”

“With the amount of money in play for just these two, that would be just too much, even for a hutt of Ziro’s wealth. We’re talking about 150,000 credits in the contract just for Rumi and Seripas.”

I shook my head, “You underestimate how profligate a hutt can be with money when they've been slighted. I’ve heard of hutts offering bounties of over 200,000 just for simply irritating them. A second team or assassin is not out of the question.”

The Force screamed in warning, I closed my eyes and fell deep into Prescience.

Just as quickly I emerged and pushed through my bond with Padme. HK and three RNSF bodyguards were within sight.

She was at another smaller meeting of the refugee conference and I pushed my will through the bond to crumble the Alderani flatbread snack in her hand, before pushing the remains to land on the floor. Padme goggled at the inexplicable event, her mind too flabbergasted to make any connection or be wise to the threat.

HK reacted with the speed and experience of an assassin droid. I didn't even need to order him. He had seen the application of my power and understood immediately.

With three sprinting mechanical steps he bullied his way through the crowded room, knocking over multiple guests and seized the well-dressed waiter manning the food table by the scruff of the neck. “Warning: Poison in the food!”

The droid’s deadpan voice resounded through the room and it had the appropriate effect. Everyone’s self-preservation instinct kicked in and soon the floor was littered with flatbread and numerous politicians screaming, wiping their hands off, spitting their food out or even inducing themselves to throw up.

Padme’s bodyguards did the correct thing and immediately whisked her away.

I pulled back along the bond and tapped on my comlink. “HK, knock him unconscious, tell Alderani Security of the poison he slipped into Padme’s flatbread. Tell them also I’m on my way.”

“Affirmative: Yes, Master. Mockery: Poison? Really? Pathetic meatbag.” There was a meaty thump as a droid fist met soft flesh.

Typho just stared at me flatly and I could sense his mind working at thousands of lightyears per second, “Did you just prevent another assassination?

His comlink beeping urgently was all the answer he needed.

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By the time Typho and I arrived in a speeder at the Alderani Parliament, it bore a stark resemblance to a kicked hornet’s nest. Security shuttles and speeders crowded around the building and I could see numerous security personnel on every balcony, looking outward with macrobinoculars and scanners.

In the entrance lobby, we were met by the senior ASF official in charge of the parliament’s security, Captain Drel Grahero. He was a tall, wiry man with elegant bleach white hair, cleanly shaven, who looked to be in his late forties. His physicality showed that he was no pushover though and in the Force I sensed an utter stubbornness and zealous conviction to his duty. He also didn’t like either me or Typho, but was professional enough to bury it.

“Captain Typho, Padawan Tano,” he greeted us coolly, his gray eyes were hard and just short of glaring at us.

“Captain Grahero, what’s the situation?” Typho asked, folding his arms.

Grahero simply gestured for us to follow him into a turbolift. Only when we were inside did he answer, “We have the assassin in temporary holding on one of the sublevels,” he said, pushing the button for the third sublevel. “So far he has said nothing. My people are questioning him now, but he doesn’t even acknowledge us.”

“What have your scans of him revealed?” I asked.

“His DNA is in the database, Sem Kalgima, 23 years old and he’s worked at the local catering company for the past five years. We’re contacting his employer and any possible family relations at the moment.”

“So a legitimate Alderani, out of nowhere, wakes up today and decides to poison Senator Amidala, the day after a team of assassins fails,” I said skeptically. “Not buying it.”

“I share your suspicion, padawan,” Grahero admitted. “However, our scans and ID of him are conclusive.”

“We want to speak to him personally,” Typho demanded.

“Since he was caught with poison on his person, trying to kill your senator, I’ll allow it. Just remember, he is an Alderani citizen with all the rights inherent. These are not the front lines of the war and Alderaan is not some dustball Outer Rim world.”

Wow, I could just feel the core worlder mentality oozing off from him.

“We are perfectly aware of where we are, captain,” I said with a smile.

The turbolift opened and after a few minutes of walking through narrowed hallways, leading to rooms that housed the machinery that made parliament a pleasant place to be in, we stopped outside a nondescript door where two security men stood at attention.

They opened the door for us and inside was a bare room that had a further door leading onward and on that wall, was a large one-way transparisteel viewport that went from floor to ceiling. It looked out over a large table and chair, where Sem was handcuffed to and he was being talked to by an Alderani woman in a security uniform and one of Typho’s men was also standing behind her.

Grahero tapped the comlink on his vambrace, “Lieutenant Palva, a moment.”

The woman in the interrogation room straightened and opened the door, walked out and saluted her superior. “Captain?”

“Anything new?”

“No, sir. He just keeps staring at the wall,” Palva said with frustration.

“Let’s see what our Jedi friend can determine,” he said, giving me a pointed look and gesturing to the open door.

I took the invitation and walked inside, Typho following close on my heels and closing the door behind us.

My senses and mind were already pushing forward through the Force, taking in everything about Sem Kelgima.

On a surface level, he was a decently looking Alderani male, short dark-blonde hair, blue eyes, high-cheekbones and a thin mouth. He filled out his waiter uniform nicely and was definitely in good shape.

Typho took a seat opposite and began just looking at the assassin with a foreboding stare. Anyone normal would’ve been feeling very uncomfortable and downright intimidated, but it didn’t seem to faze Sem at all. He definitely understood that there was someone new with him and trying to get his attention, he just didn’t let it happen. Not even when I crossed into his field of vision did he react.

Through the Force though, I was learning a lot.

I tapped my comlink to open a channel to Grahero. “Captain, how did you determine this man’s DNA profile?”

“We scanned him, padawan,” he replied with exasperation.

“No blood or saliva sample testing then.”

“Of course not, we’re not so primitive here.”

I shook my head at the arrogance. “Well, your sophisticated scanner was fooled, captain. This man has a spoofer implanted right here.” I poked the assassin on the right side of his spine, just below the ribcage with a finger. Sem gave the first true reaction so far and twitched. I felt a slight bit of panic and fear begin to leak through his rigidly trained emotional control.

“What? The scanner detected no implants either.”

“That’s another function of the spoofer this man has,” I said, continuing to steadily walk around the assassin. “Sem Kalgima,” I said aloud, carefully paying attention to the man’s mind, emotions and reactions to hearing the full name. The results were conclusive to me. “His name is an alias. He reacts well to it, but it has no true resonance in his emotions or thoughts.”

I reached into my utility belt and pulled out my own DNA scanner. It was the standard Jedi model that was used in the field. I pulled out the sample tab from the bottom and surged my will through the Force. A TK stasis enveloped the assassin and I stepped next to him. Now the guy was really alarmed and panicking. No amount of training could really stop that, when you suddenly felt your body being so overwhelmingly pushed and restrained from an invisible source and all directions. His skin was telling him he was being smothered and restrained in an unyielding blanket, but his eyes told him there was nothing.

I raised a finger in his sightline and slowly bent it.

He was forced to stiffen and bend his neck back.

“What are you doing?!” Grahero snapped.

“Getting a sample, he would not have cooperated if I had asked him.”

“I warned you-!”

“Captain Grahero, this man’s identity is in question, he may not be Alderani at all!” My TK reached out and bent the door just enough so that it wouldn’t be able to retreat into the wall. This stopped Grahero in his tracks, when he tried to open it.

“Open this door at once, Padawan!”

I ignored the belly aching and forced the assassin’s mouth open, pushed the sample tab in and scraped the inside of his cheeks, gathering cells and saliva.

That done, I let the TK stasis go and the assassin’s control was finally shattered. He tried to kick me right on the side of my knee, which would’ve been very nasty had I not seen it coming and simply dodged out of the way.

I shoved the sample tab into the reader and smirked at the assassin, who was now scowling in my direction with a single minded hatred that was honestly quite impressive in its strength. It was good this guy wasn’t a Sith or Force sensitive.

The reader beeped and projected a small holo panel with the results.

My eyes met the assassin’s, “Really?”

He simply continued glaring at me in answer. I turned around and held up my scanner against the transparisteel, knowing that Grahero was looking despite himself.

“What?! That’s impossible!”

“You’re welcome to bring your own manual DNA reader down, Captain Grahero. It will tell you the same thing. This man does not appear in the DNA registry of Alderaan, but his DNA does partially match in the Jedi Archives. ‘Sem’ here, is descended from the House of Rist.”

“They’re supposed to be extinct, dead, gone, a blight on Alderaan’s good name!”

“Padawan, who are they?” asked Typho in confusion.

“A very old Alderani noble house, one that the other houses used in ancient times to do their dirty work. They were assassins and spies. We’re talking about 3000 years or so ago. Eventually though, the other houses began to fear all the dirty laundry that Rist had on all of them, so in the interest of a newly established peace after an Alderani succession crisis, they were mostly dealt with quietly. It seems they were not thorough enough.”

“You know your history,” Typho said, looking impressed.

“One of my friends in the Jedi Academy is Alderani. History in general is a passion of mine.” I stepped forward as I sensed the feelings of Sem Rist turn to a bloody minded murderous rage, focused on me. “Are we going to have a problem Rist? You want to kill me now? Set your entire house on me for exposing your continued existence to Alderaan? I wonder how many others you have infiltrated. Are you slowly biding your time, building up until you can strike to kill the heads of all the major houses at once?” He naturally didn’t answer, but I was pushing hard on his surface thoughts as I was talking. Trying to get him to think of something that would provide an answer. “Should I just kill you now? To keep word from getting back to Rist? To save so many lives? Even those of your own house when they send assassins after me?”

The Darksaber sprung to life in my hand with a crystalline crack and I rested it near his neck. A twitch of a wrist and it would all be over.

Rist stared for the first time in naked fear at the very odd white and black lightsaber blade. “That your house responded at all to Ziro’s contract is somewhat amazing. He must’ve promised you guys a planet of your own in hutt space to bring you out of hiding like this.”

It was just a wild ass guess, as I had no idea how well off the exiled House of Rist was. That they had an infiltrator at all spoke volumes. You didn’t do that when you were destitute. It meant that you had assets, wealth and organization. The implants in this guy were not cheap. The spoofer was just one of a dozen others that were sprinkled all over, with functions such as an implant for his lungs that would probably let him outlast anyone in a running competition, an internal bacta reservoir for healing internal injuries…

The Darksaber retreated into its hilt. Prescience didn’t show a good outcome from killing this guy. Not for myself or the Alderani. A dead body could be dismissed. They would bury their heads in the sand and pretend that nothing could touch the paradise they had built here. Bail Organa would classify it as state secret and commission the ASF to slowly and secretly hunt for further House Rist infiltrators. The paranoia this engenders in the ASF causes a faction of them to secretly splinter off and become an anti-Rist conspiracy that was like an Alderani Section 31, that ‘disappeared’ potential Rist infiltrators and they naturally would get it wrong more than they got it right.

No, the Alderani had to confront this specter of the past in the light. If their civilization and government couldn’t handle that, then they didn’t deserve this paradise.

“Captain Typho, do you have further questions to ask?”

“Will he actually answer them?” he wryly asked in turn.

“No, his indoctrination won’t allow it and even if he’s tortured to the point of betraying anything, he also has a suicide implant.”

“Then we’re wasting our time here.”

We left to return to Padme, but not before I had a few words with Grahero.

“I will be informing Prince Organa personally about the situation,” I said, outright glaring into the captain’s eyes. I had spotted a probability line where Alderani captain had taken matters into his own hands to ‘disappear’ the Rist assassin and cover everything up.

“What are you implying, padawan?” he asked, looking and feeling insulted.

“Those who know of the Rist, can be counted on one hand at the moment among the Alderani. They are all under your command.”

“What? You think I’d cover it all up?”

“Yes,” I hissed, poking him in the chest. “I am Jedi. I can sense your emotions as an open book and infer and deduce a lot. Don’t try to cover this up. Nor will you ask the Prince to do so.”

“I will not be told what to do by some jumped up togruti youngling! What would you know about what is best for this world and its people?”

“What do you?” I retorted with a dangerous smile. “Are you Prince of Alderaan? Do you hold that title and responsibility?”

He simply fumed and glared, not rising to the obvious bait.

“Let’s go, Captain Typho. I’d rather not Senator Amidala be in HK’s company alone for too long.”

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“Truly?”

I nodded at Bail Organa and handed over my DNA sampler. He read the results on the small holoscreen intently for a few moments before he closed his eyes and his mouth thinned in anger. Yet I sensed it was anger directed not at himself or anyone in particular.

He turned and stared at Padme with regret. “I am sorry, my friend. The sins of my ancestors come to haunt us and we almost lose you.”

She shook her head and stood from the couch, “Bail, don’t apologize. The only people at fault here are the Rist for continuing their vendetta and allowing themselves to still be used as weapons for hire.”

“And the one who hired them,” I reiterated.

“Of course, that all this is Ziro’s doing, only surprises me by the extent to which he’s pursuing it,” Padme said.

“Padawan Tano, what was your reading of this Sem Rist? Do you think there are truly more Rist on this planet, waiting in the shadows?” Bail asked gravely.

“Almost certainly, Prince Organa. The Rist wouldn’t risk Sem in an assassination otherwise if he was their only asset on the planet. He’s relatively young as well, so was considered disposable if something went wrong. The other point I now realize is that Sem has a suicide implant, yet he hasn’t used it after capture.”

“That is interesting,” Bail mused, folding his hands at his waist. “Does he still have hope to be rescued or could it be that he’s young and their indoctrination failed?”

“Always assume the worst, that way when things aren’t as bad, you are pleasantly surprised, highness,” I said with a brief smile. “Therefore, we must assume that Sem hasn’t killed himself because there is an alternate plan that kicked in the moment he was captured. He likely has a handler nearby who gave him the mission in the first place, who is also remotely monitoring the situation. It would not surprise me if one of the functions of his implants is to communicate in some fashion in a generally untraceable manner. It’ll be encrypted, short range, and only occur in bursts at random.”

I could see he was fighting back against openly displaying his emotions and general weariness. This was a man who was facing a decision which would literally define the continued well being of his people and the planet. Before I had shown up, he was only worried about the war in a nebulous sense. In his mind, Alderaan was there and it would remain there, a bastion, a paradise. Now an enemy from the past had come in the night and was threatening to destroy a peace and order that had so far endured for more than three thousand years.

“There must be a way to resolve this without bloodshed,” he declared, clenching his fists. “I refuse to accept that we must once again destroy House Rist to preserve Alderaan.”

“There is an ancient saying, highness, ‘Speak softly and carry a big stick,’” I said evenly.

Bail huffed in amusement despite himself, “At the moment we don’t know where or how to contact House Rist or if they’ll even listen to us.”

“Ziro clearly could, somehow,” Padme pointed out.

“Even if you could contact House Rist, the question then becomes who would you send,” I sighed. “You can’t send any Alderani with any sort of official standing to speak for the Houses, their life would either be forfeit or they become a hostage. You need to send a neutral party, someone who can take on Rist if it should come down to it, but can also mediate.”

“You’re describing a Jedi,” Bail smirked at me.

“Not me,” I said instantly. “This is definitely the job of a Jedi Master with experience, one who also knows the criminal underworld extremely well.” I couldn’t help the smile that blossomed on my face as an idea occurred to me.

“And do you happen to know such a Jedi Master?” Bail asked.

“Not personally, but I know of him. I also think he might even know how to contact House Rist.”

I tapped my comlink, and after keying in the correct address, a holo of the Jedi emblem appeared above my arm. Next I keyed in my personal access code. Nearly half a minute later we were still staring at the Jedi Temple’s equivalent of a ‘on hold’ signal. “Guess it’s a busy day in the communications center.”

Finally the holo resolved to display the upper body and head of a human male Jedi Knight, who I could immediately tell was rather harried, despite his perfect outward appearance. “Padawan Tano, you have been verified. How can I help?”

“I need to somewhat urgently speak to Master Tera Sinube.”

“A moment, I will check for you.” The Knight turned to work at his terminal and after a few seconds of checking the results on his screen… “I have raised his personal comlink, padawan. Do you wish me to forward your signal?”

“Yes, please. Thank you.”

“Very well, Force be with you.”

The knight vanished and the spinning Jedi emblem returned, below it the words ‘Awaiting signal response’ kept flashing.

Nearly two minutes later we were still waiting, with the holocall ‘ringing’. Padme had sat down and Bail was patiently standing next to me, rocking back occasionally on his heels.

“It seems this Master Sinube is busy,” he eventually said.

“No,” I said, stifling a laugh. “He’s taking a late afternoon nap it seems and his comlink’s alarm isn’t enough to wake him up.”

“Dare I ask how you know that, Padawan Tano?” Bail raised an eyebrow at me.

“You may ask, highness. I don’t mind,” I smirked cheekily. “Let’s just say the Jedi’s ways are mysterious and leave it at that.” I directed the Force along the focus and using a bit of TK, gently shook the master’s shoulder, as if my hand was right there next to him in his seat in front of a research terminal among the tall, glowing blue holocube stacks of the Jedi Archives.

“Uh, wh- hello?” The elderly cosian Jedi said as he emerged from his slumber. He glanced around with an intrigued expression on his near-equine like face, clearly sensing my ‘hand’ and the Force flexing around him. I retreated back along the link, just as the master heard his comlink calling for attention.

Finally, the call connected, and Master Sinube’s holo appeared over my arm.

“Hello? You are Padawan Tano?”

“Yes master. Thank you for taking my call and I apologize for waking you.”

“No, no, that’s all right. Rather intriguing skill you have there, young Tano. Most impressive. Now how can this old Jedi help you and… oh, Senator Organa.”

“Master Jedi,” Bail greeted with a slight bow.

“Master Sinube, both the Senator and I require your help and particular expertise. You wouldn’t happen to know of a family or group of underworld assassins that go by some variation of the name Rist?”

“Rist, you say? Rist… Rist… one moment, let me do a few searches, memory isn’t what it used to be.” The cosian looked to the side, tapping on his research terminal. Eventually he shook his head. “No, no assassin family or organization by that name in my records or that I’ve even heard rumor of. There was the ancient Alderaanian assassin house, but they’re extinct.”

“If they wanted to remain hidden they would leave the name Rist behind, rebranding in some fashion. Master, is there any such organization which extensively uses cybernetic implants?”

“Most of them do in some form or other, how extensive do you mean?”

“You name the body part, it has something to help or enhance function and they’ll all be human. Perhaps a few even have Alderani names?”

“Interesting, now that does narrow it down, padawan. Not enough I’m afraid.”

“Master Sinube, do any of these assassin organizations have an ancient sword and shield as symbology?” Bail asked suddenly, with an air of remembrance.

“There is one, yes. They call themselves the Compeer; exclusively human, very reclusive and only take contracts for targets when they’re offered huge sums of money. They don’t have a known base or world they operate out of. When you want their services, you have to arrange a meeting through a specific holonet address, which will differ depending on which day of the week it is. Obtaining those addresses is generally done through word of mouth only in the underworld. I think Compeer seeded them to select criminal figures at some point in the past and it’s persisted to this day.”

“What’s their reputation in the underworld?” I asked curiously.

“Very good. It is rare that they ever fail to kill a contracted target and if they do fail, they’ll usually compensate the client in some form and keep trying.”

“That’s not what I wanted to hear, master,” I sighed wearily.

“Now how did a young padawan like you get involved with the Compeer?” Sinube asked with a raised leathery skin flap that served as his eyebrow.

“They accepted a contract on Senator Amidala’s life and I’m currently protecting her.”

“Oh. Oh dear. Where is your master?”

“Fighting alongside the 501st Clone Legion.”

“That is quite a conundrum you’ve got yourself into, padawan. Senator, am I correct that you now believe Compeer and the ancient House Rist are connected?”

“It’s possible, Master Sinube. Padawan Tano managed to stop the assassin and we currently have him in custody. His DNA matches as a descendant of Rist. I want to retain your services to act as a mediator with them. We believe they have more infiltrators on Alderaan, working on a long term plan to perhaps take revenge in a vendetta against the noble houses that killed their ancestors.”

“That will not be easy, senator. It will require time, planning and patience. Very well, I’ll be on the next transport to Alderaan to speak to you directly, in as secure an environment as you can arrange. In the meantime, Padawan Tano, be extra vigilant. Expect an escalating attack of some sort from the Compeer to fulfill their contract. They failed with subtlety, now they will use overwhelming force.”

“Understood, master. Thank you.”

“Force be with you, young padawan.”

The holo winked out.

Padme looked at her chrono. “It’s almost time for lunch. I think that I’ll eat in my quarters for the moment. We can resume afterward.”

“And of course you want the conference to go on as if nothing has happened,” I said with a half-hysterical laugh.

“I will not let my life be dictated by Ziro or anyone, Ahsoka, nor will I live in fear. The moment we give in to terror, there will be no end to its use by our enemies. I’m well used to danger and I’ve lived through many assassination attempts. That being said, I’m not reckless. We’ll increase our security as tough as we can make it and I’ll have you and HK by my side.”

“All right, I’ll get HK to evaluate the Compeer and see what attack methods he thinks they’ll use.”

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The day that followed as the conference continued was the most mentally and emotionally exhausting time of my life thus far. I was constantly on alert and probing the immediate and near future with prescience, searching for when and how Rist or Compeer would strike. I probed every person that came into the same room as Padme for strange or out of place emotions. HK now walked around with both his blaster cannon and a sniper rifle latched onto his back, but hid it from view by wearing a cloak, so as to stop the ‘disgustingly pacifistic meatbags’ from potentially hindering his mission.

Typho’s RNSF team was always on the periphery of the room, their right hands near their blaster pistol holsters, whilst their left hands had portable scanners, searching for unknown energy or weapon signatures. At that size, the resolution wasn’t great, but at least they’d give early warning of a blaster charging up.

Meeting after meeting passed until we were back in Panteer Hall, for Padme to give her keynote speech fully and this time without any interruption.

The tension level in the room was naturally high and had been all day. I had to give big kudos to the Alderani parliamentarians for even being in the same room as Padme after the two assassination attempts. If this had been on any other planet or on Coruscant, the politicians would’ve already fled the Senate building and not returned until at least a high level security review was completed and few senate committees had signed off on it. Some would’ve even returned to their homeworlds and only attended via hologram.

Yet it seemed, Compeer was planning something else.

All the probability lines showed nothing happening during the keynote and sure enough, Padme delivered it without incident and received a standing ovation for it in the end.

It was pretty much a done deal now. The Alderani would not only provide financial aid to refugees from the war, but I had heard another idea gaining steam about even enlarging the carefully managed cities of the planet to provide temporary or even permanent housing to refugees who could make it to the core world.

The sun set and everyone returned to their homes.

Padme was still in her assigned quarters and standing out on the balcony with the impressive view again.

I was standing right next to her, feeling decidedly tired but pushing it away with the Force and keeping my eyes lazily scanning right to left. Most of my attention was on my Farsight and occasionally dipping into prescience - I had already worn myself a bit ragged with it, almost like a muscle that I was using too often. I knew it was dangerous, as it was narrowing my vision, but it was equally dangerous not to use it.

“Padme, it’s really not safe out here,” I said, giving a glance to HK, who stood like a silent sentinel at the balcony’s corner.

“I know,” she said, taking a sip from a glass of water. “Please don’t make me repeat myself.”

“Couldn’t we at least have moved you to different quarters?” She just gave me a stern look in reply. “Fine.”

My eyes turned back to the skyline of mountains, finding the twinkling stars overhead and the occasional moving light of a ship ascending or descending through the atmosphere.

The Force screaming a warning sent a jolt through me like I had just stuck a finger into a wall socket.

Prescience showed a probability line that had been hovering faintly on the edges of my weakened perception, which suddenly roared to life and reality.

My lightsaber shot forward from my belt, ignited and whirled in front of Padme’s face to deflect the orange bolt that lanced in from a point nearly two kilometers distant, coming from a treeline and halfway up the nearest mountain.

“HK!” I snapped.

The droid had already had his own sniper rifle in hand and in the next moment lifted it and fired off a return shot that vanished into the distance.

“Report: Kill achieved, Master. Warning: Threat assessment-”

He didn’t finish.

In that moment, a distant Corellian YT light freighter passing over the mountain opened a hidden panel in its hull and fired off a concussion missile that screamed into the city and directly for the balcony where I was standing.

The Force Push I sent out to meet it was barely in time, so fast was it.

The missile exploded just three hundred meters from the balcony. It lit up the night sky with a brief flash of fire. Sending shrapnel fanning outward from the flat plane of TK I had thrown in its way.

The freighter wasn’t deterred by the failure and simply dropped a further three missiles to target the same spot.

In a corner of my mind I realized that the original sniper shot had been just to aid the freighter pilot in giving the missiles a target to lock on to. The energy flare of my lightsaber and the deflection was enough for the sensors to detect. Once the pilot had that, he could simply send more missiles our way based on coordinate data.

I threw another Force Push and the missiles exploded short once again.

Two missiles were fired next and for an instant I wondered what the pilot was playing at, until he waited a second and fired three more!

Clever.

I had no time to wonder what kind of launcher that YT was packing.

I raised my hand and instead of a bog standard push, poured my will and focus into grabbing an actual hold of all five missiles with TK.

I managed to stop four dead in mid-air and was hit with the beginnings of a headache.

The fifth continued straight on.

There wasn’t even time to swear.

HK sniper rifle whined and fired.

The fifth missile died a mere hundred meters from the balcony and I had to dive right to tackle Padme to get us both behind the solid duracrete railings.

Shrapnel peppered the balcony and shattered the windows behind us.

“Eat shit!” I swore and with TK, turned the missiles around.

They were still burning on their long duration propulsion, so had more than enough in the tank to simply keep going for another fifty kilometers.

Naturally, they didn’t want to kill the ship that had launched them. Immediately trying to correct course back towards the balcony.

These were not the relatively stupid, straight forward missiles of a man-launched system that you could just return to sender by turning it around. It took all my concentration to keep the missile maneuvering jets and control surfaces suppressed and only allow them to fire off when I wanted them to.

As it was, I only managed it by imagining I was flying these missiles as if I was in a fighter cockpit, but with a computer that fought my inputs at every turn, which I could override.

To an outside observer with super fast reaction times, it must’ve seemed like these missiles were being steered by a drunk computer.

Nevertheless, with a final burst of will I had all four missiles plow into the freighter.

Their onboard safeties meant they didn’t detonate properly.

Instead they acted like heavy bullets that tore through the relatively thin hull of the civilian freighter.

I had been aiming for the launcher itself, but missed, instead two missiles tore through and shattered inside a crew compartment, whilst the third went through a small passage inside the freighter, severing conduits.

The fourth punctured just behind the characteristic conical cockpit of the YT, and the resultant uncontrolled energy release from the shattered repulsors and shrapnel, turned the pilot into a gooey red mist that coated the cockpit interior liberally.

The assassin was dead, but his last act had been to trigger the final missile he had in his 10-shot launcher a moment before.

The missile roared straight through my moment of recovery, as I was gathering the Force to launch a final desperate Push.

The balcony was lit up with blue light and a constant cacophony as HK let rip with his blaster cannon on full auto.

An explosion lit up the night sky again.

Then I only felt pain as the overpressure slammed into my montrals and body as if some great giant had stomped on them with his foot.

I did the only thing I could at this point and pushed past the pain to intentionally pass out.

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A/N: The truth is revealed, somewhat. It's going to take a while for Padme to digest, there will be more convo and reaction about it, especially after the convention of assassins problem is solved. Not to mention Anakin's eventual reaction. Hope you enjoyed and have a great weekend.

EDIT: Fixed continuity issue.