KIM
Flying to Naboo, we made a small detour and stopped at Christophsis on the way. There we picked up another Terran and also bought clothes. Scaring Sheev prematurely and forcibly shaking knowledge out of him was not in my plans, if only because it wasn't a fact that the boy knew anything, so we'd have to dance from stealth.
So, instead of a dark red style, it became bluish white. And instead of a cloak, crushgaunts on my hands, and a combat mask-helmet, an expensive well-groomed suit worn directly over the jumpsuit. On top was a mantle with sleeves, under it something similar to a polo shirt with ornate silver curls. The bottom—gray pants and boots. As they say—simple and with taste; at least at first glance I should pass for an aristocrat, and no more is needed. Finally, I painted my face with green paint, applying the signature Mirialan diamonds to my cheeks and forehead. Possessing a naturally noticeable, memorable appearance, I needed to take care of hiding it. Wearing a mask in such circumstances—not the best idea; it would only attract more attention, besides we already have one "invalid." And painting myself like this—I think it'll be enough.
Radiy and Zara participated in the adventure with me. Radiy, being immortal, pretended to be a cyborg. Well, he had no options: either a cyborg or a droid. He dressed in something like a leather coat, a shirt, and dark green pants with shoes. He decorated his saber a bit and insolently hung it on his belt so that it emphasized the noble origin of its owner. I didn't reinvent the wheel and acted exactly the same, placing both sabers on one side like trophies.
The last in our small squad was Zara. A young human woman, at most thirty years old. Slightly narrowed eyes, long hair to her waist, a neat rounded face. Height one meter fifty, of a fragile build. For herself, this lady chose a long, floor-length, blue-and-white dress with a deep slit on the thigh. There were also slits on the back and in the chest area, which simply forced attention to be paid to her. Long, shoulder-length gloves on her hands, a necklace of precious stones on her neck, and a ring on each middle finger. High-heeled shoes completed the look.
"Hm... Radiy, are you sure? I asked for a fighter," I squinted skeptically at the immortal while Zara was changing. Even though I felt a powerful source of the Force in the woman, that didn't mean she could apply it correctly in a combat situation. "After all, we're going after a Sith Lord."
"Zara is an experienced fighter. She led the group to eliminate a cult of Force-sensitives thirty years ago on the planet Baros 1," Radiy explained calmly. "The group consisted of two, while there were thirteen beings in the cult. Final score: thirteen to zero."
"And what kind of cult?"
"Psychos found abandoned buildings of dark adepts left over from ancient wars. They found them, studied the techniques, decided to apply them in practice, but didn't have time. We flew in and ruined everything."
"And have you managed to cut out many cults of Force-sensitives?"
"Do you want it in percentage terms?"
"Go ahead."
"Sixty percent of the found groups of Force-sensitives are subject to destruction for one reason or another. Among the reasons: sacrifice of sentients, use of curses, use of dangerous Force techniques, threat to the locals loyal to us, as well as ideological conflict based on one specific side of the Force. It often happens that our scouts stumble upon another cult preaching some specific direction of the Force, denying everything else. We try to negotiate. If it doesn't work out—such an order is subject to elimination, and the relics to seizure."
"I see."
Then Zara appeared before us. Falling silent in sync, we scrutinized the woman, thereby embarrassing her. And then, after a short pause, Radiy said:
"This is why some of the immortals prefer death to life."
"Indeed," I nodded. "Zara, where is your saber?"
Reaching for the dress, she threw it back near the slit, baring her leg, and immediately pulled a lightstaff into her hand. A pair of white Forcesaber blades pierced the air. Black discharges ran through them from time to time, as if in time with the pulsation of the owner's heart.
"Do not worry, Ancient One. I will not fail you," the woman promised, deactivating the saber and bowing.
"And I'd already managed to forget how hard it is to talk to you..." the thought flickered in the back of my mind, and aloud I grumbled quietly:
"I'm not that ancient," and then louder: "Radiy, you can fool the detectors, can't you? There are too many suspicious details in both me and you, and Zara can't shine her saber."
"Easily."
"Excellent. Then listen. According to the legend, I'm a trader from the Outer Rim, supplying raw materials for medicines and currently looking for new buyers. A wealthy and influential family, though small, we do business with Kessel. You, Radiy, are my business colleague and a family friend. Zara is formally your spouse."
"Are the documents attached?"
"Yes. I asked an acquaintance on Kessel. He really is a supplier, both of raw materials and finished preparations. There will be no problems with the cover. Next, as soon as we land, we find Sheev. We don't get close, just observe. He took a ticket for the day after tomorrow on a cruise ship to Coruscant. we board with him, and on the ship we try to talk if possible. The gear will fly on the KIM, so in case of anything, I think we can change, but if not—we act according to circumstances."
"Accepted," Radiy responded, and the woman nodded silently.
Having briefed the assistants on the plan, we flew to Naboo.
In my understanding, the planet Naboo was strange. When reading the report on this planet, I tried to understand—are the locals complete idiots? Because, being in the Mid Rim, on the border with the Outer Rim, the planet had practically no protection. If it weren't for the Trade Federation, which protected this sector, I would be interested to see how the locals would have fought piracy and banditry then.
Yes, now the planet Naboo is one of the safest places. There is a developed civilized society, minimum crime, but it is hardly their merit. In my opinion, the TF has every right to acquire the planet's main resource—plasma—at reduced prices. It's at least impudent to demand a "fair" contract from the one who protects you. Looking at the planet and where it's going, I remembered the canon and the future conflict between the TF and Naboo. The prerequisites for this conflict are appearing even now, which puts me in an even greater dead end. Guys, the Senate was blown up here, the Banking Clan fell, large-scale showdowns began in the "Greater Javin" sector, and for a second, that is the center of Outer Rim trade! The most civilized, by your Force, place! In Hutt territories, the number of criminals has halved; everyone ran to see what and from whom they could steal. And the icing on the cake—literally a system away my Mandalorians are entertaining themselves, explaining to hapless adventurers that here they will only find a boot print on their face. And the Trade Federation is helping in this, which, looking at this matter, decided to take a more active part and grab a little more than we originally planned.
And with all this, the Naboo... sit and relax at their pleasure, coming up with another work of art and grumbling about the unfairness of the contracts in their regard. Well guys... are you serious? Alderaan can behave like that; it has a lot of dough! It used to. It still has quite a bit now, but it used to be better. It can hire an entire planet if necessary to give whoever needs it a beating. But not you!
And I was also killed by the local laws, which are suspiciously similar to Alderaanian ones. Yes, there is democracy here. Formally. Yes, there is freedom of speech. Again formally. But in practice—there is the top, and everyone else. By the top I mean a few influential families who essentially manage all the enterprises on the planet. The king or queen is chosen purely formally; those who need to know already know who the next one will be. There used to be an absolute monarch, but his policy didn't suit many, so he ended quickly, and we got what we have.
Yes, Naboo is a beautiful planet. To some extent noble, and there are people on it to match their home world, but I'll be very glad if there are at least five of them. Otherwise—it's some kind of Alderaan on minimum settings.
True, unlike Alderaan, there is an indigenous population here, called Gungans, but unfortunately, they decide nothing. Essentially, there are two different worlds on the planet. Underwater and surface. By the way, there's also an interesting story with the Gungans. They seem like wild tribes—but there are excellent underwater means of transport, force fields, energy throwing projectiles, plasma energy generators, and other high-tech devices. At the same time, they also use slings, catapults, and spears. How? Just how??? Explain to me, the idiot, I don't understand this world...
Another amusing point. The TF, in principle, was wary of Mandalorians but didn't chase them away. On the contrary, the traders often hired the warriors when things got hot, and since they were the ones controlling the system, Mandalorians sometimes walked in their combat gear right through the city streets. Now, when our authority has grown, meeting a Mandalorian on TF-controlled territory has become much easier, which, by the way, the Hutts weren't very happy about. Our people are doing business with them less and less, and ruining their business more and more often. Any moment now, and they'll start to stir... or—they'll make peace, as Jabba did. The Hutt gave us the coordinates of his hideouts, drug labs, weapon factories, and other wealth in advance, all to avoid accidentally falling under a hot hand. Thanks to this, the Desilijic clan practically doesn't suffer from my actions. Where our people are—Jabba's people know and fly around, we don't really touch the business or it moves in advance, so the slug continues to gain weight and authority in the ranks of other worms. I see.
Returning to Naboo. Landing in Theed, I inhaled the aroma of the local flowers with my full chest. Yes, we were in the spaceport. Yes, it was relatively gassy here. But nothing could spoil the aromas of the planet and the blooming on it, which goes on here all year round.
Walking to the checkpoint, Radiy easily fooled the detectors and here we are in the city. The city was filled with vegetation; trees and flowers were literally everywhere. The houses were small, at most three stories, mostly rounded in shape with dome-like roofs. Sometimes more traditional rectangular buildings with a roof in the form of a truncated pyramid were encountered. Statues, fountains, some decorative alleys, even the local residents—everything literally screamed about how beautiful this place is.
And it was all the more painful for me to feel disgust here. Walking down the street toward the office of the NMP company, they are Naboo Medical Preparations, I again had to close myself off from others' emotions. The flow wasn't as strong as on Coruscant, but it was extremely unpleasant for me to hear one thing and feel another. Thus, in one of the cafes, right on the street sat a group. Seemingly pleasant young people, judging by the conversation—they all work in the same firm! And as soon as you hear emotions that don't match the words, it immediately becomes somehow disgusting. The locals didn't care about anyone's welfare but their own.
"And maybe they wouldn't have disappeared..." I finished to myself. Maybe, if there were no Trade Federation, the locals would have simply made a deal with various criminal individuals... if they hadn't already made a deal, so that their world wouldn't be touched once more and it would quietly prosper. I see.
Visiting NMP for form's sake and concluding a contract on behalf of Kessel, thereby giving myself a reason for visiting Naboo, we went to the hotel where we stayed for the night. Despite the fact that Naboo is not considered a resort planet (though it has wonderful nature), it doesn't bother anyone to charge obscene prices for hotel rooms. The question is, who is it intended for? Unclear...
Once in the hotel, I sent Radiy to collect reports from the observers who were following Sheev. I also gave an assignment to Zara, just so she wouldn't sit idle. I decided to call my people myself, and first in line was Fay... Yeah, easier said than done. Since it was decided to leave Ziro on the KIM, I first had to contact the ship, then extract the contact data from the droid, and only after that get in touch. A nightmare, how I've grown used to my protocol droid!
"Master Aero?" Fay's hologram was surprised at my green-skinned image as soon as the projector was switched on.
"Hi, Fay. Don't worry about it; we have our own work. Tell me, how are things going with the Order?" I inquired, settling more comfortably in the chair and pulling a meat pastry from the next table.
"Well... I need more time," the woman replied evasively, looking away.
I scrutinized the Force-sensitive skeptically.
"Is it all bad?"
"Well, no. Rather—problematic. Right now the Order has enough concerns; they have their own methods of solving the problem, not related to us at all. Frankly speaking, the Council not only isn't going to support us in the idea, they don't want to at all, and some wouldn't mind interfering."
"Why the hell? I haven't done anything to them, and I even pointed them to the Sith."
"That may be so, but according to Republic laws you should have reported him immediately."
"I did report him! Although I could have kept quiet and solved everything myself. True, in that case I would have been declared the enemy, but I'm used to it."
"If so, then prove it."
"Prove innocence? Shouldn't the accuser prove guilt?"
"Well, in this case it's like this."
"Great policy... Fay, I'm already starting to regret that I gave in to your persuasion."
"But it's not all bad, Master Aero. You aren't considered an enemy; they just don't believe you."
"I should note that it's a mutual feeling."
"Fine, okay. Yes, your relationship isn't the best, but I have weight here. The name of the legendary Fay means something within these walls, so—perhaps I will succeed in doing something."
Propping my cheek with my right fist, I looked at Fay with pity.
"I don't hear confidence in your voice."
"It's not insignificant that I'm not a member of the Order... Yes, I have a name, but in fact—I'm a stranger here too."
"Fay, if it doesn't work out, just say so. In that case we move to Plan B and start a PR nightmare for the Order."
"Mmm... I wouldn't want that."
"Neither would I."
"Master Shade, can you appear for a talk with the Council? Perhaps your personal participation could tip the scales."
"The last time I was in the Order, I was ready to turn one green Master into a rug. To assert to my face that I'm a Sith—it's just unthinkable. Not only are the Sith a separate race, but someone clearly lost their way. In other words, Fay, my presence there personally won't end in anything good. Either you sort it out peacefully, or I'll make it so they don't get in my way. At most, you can arrange a communication session, but no more."
"Fine. I will suggest this option to the Council."
"You didn't tell them about your prophecy, did you?" I changed the subject, shifting position.
"I did. But only to Master Yoda."
"And?"
"Shall I give you the quote?"
"Go ahead."
" 'Debatable this is. Nothing of the sort have we seen. Darkness, perhaps, from our sight this threat has hidden. Do I consider you wrong? No. But for others, enough this will be. Proof you must deliver.' "
"And why am I not surprised."
"Master Shade, you don't need to be so radical. The Order can also be understood. They have now split their forces in two. One half is searching for the fugitive Sith; the other is dashing around problem spots, between sectors that have decided to fight each other."
"And what did they not share?"
"The Tion Hegemony says it returned all debts to the Corporate Sector. The Corporates claim the opposite. It reached the point that there has already been a series of armed skirmishes."
While Fay was speaking, I reached for Ziro, but pulled my hand back. Instead, I took out another projector and manually launched the galactic map, making my own new notes on it.
"The matter is complicated by the fact that the Tion Hegemony very much hates the Republic and is not part of it, holding a neutral position. Rather, it doesn't belong for the most part; part of the planets with particularly important hyperlanes are part of the Republic."
"Zara!"
"Yes?" The woman peeked out from the next room.
"Summary of the Tion Hegemony on my desk."
"Will be done!"
"Continue, Fay. You say they don't like the Republic?"
"Yes. And why have you perked up like that?" the Jedi narrowed her eyes.
"An idea came to me. Don't get distracted, continue."
"In general, an envoy from the Judicial Corps was sent there for the showdown in the company of a pair of Jedi. If the conflict moves into a hot phase, it will be very bad. And the worst thing is that more and more such skirmishes are appearing all over the galaxy."
"Now, now, tell me more about that part," I took out a tablet for notes. "Who wants to kill whom and for what there?"
"Eeee... Well, a lot of people. The Techno Union itself broke the contract with some ore suppliers, and they accuse it of non-payment of debts."
"I take it the Temple has all the most up-to-date information on conflicts in the Republic right now?" I raised my left eyebrow.
"Yes."
"Fa-a-ay, listen. Since you're there, maybe you could collect information? Who, where, for what wants to kill whom there, who accuses whom of what... And so on. Mmm?"
"Why do you need this?" Fay was surprised.
"Oh, I just want to make some new friends."
"Well, fine... I can provide you with this information. Only, what about the question with the Order?"
"You arrange the communication session, and I'll participate in the talk, but later. Now, please, find me the most problematic spots for the Jedi and the Republic."
"Will do."
Smirking mentally, I rejoiced at this small victory. Dislike of someone unites better than glue. In the current times, everyone who has claims against the Republic or the Order will definitely raise their head, and if I know about them, perhaps—it will be possible to gather this force together. Main thing is that a brawl doesn't start.
After the talk with Fay, in high spirits I called my mother. Her affairs were going more than well, in every sense. Thanks to advice from the Terrans, Mom was actively embedding, and sometimes replacing the syndicate's ranks with her own pawns. Although, most often, if the candidacy suited her, she simply and unceremoniously forced that candidacy to submit. It seems rumors even started spreading about a new leader of Black Sun who is worse and more terrifying than death. I see.
Afterward I chatted with Jabba. The Hutt was smiling as usual and greeted me joyfully. After a short conversation about nothing, Jabba inquired if we were going to drop by his place. It turned out the Hutt has an ill-wisher who is too envious of the rise of the Desilijic clan, and now Jabba is asking us to help him.
Realizing that there was no point in strengthening the slug further, just as there was no point in quarreling with other Hutts, I refused, citing my own affairs. Let him not relax, as they say.
Next I contacted Warren. The Mandalorian reported on the success of a series of operations conducted and complained that as soon as they appear in a system, the target immediately packs up, abandoning everything it can't carry and immediately bolts into the unknown distances. He showed several recordings of negotiations, from which I laughed heartily. No, seriously, I would very much like to see the face of a ship captain who was just returning to base from a raid, and there right in orbit he is met by such a delegation. What kind of excuses these crews didn't come up with, trying to get away. Some got away, some didn't, and some joined the fleet in a voluntary-compulsory manner.
I didn't neglect the Terrans either. Contacting Don, I received a summary of the new factories that had started working, as well as the results of the base construction. MandalMotors has already launched the production of brand new "Bubelik" miners at full blast. A vessel designed for a single organic pilot, with an extreme level of automation. Essentially the ship was a barge with engines, a generator, and a hangar where automatic ore-mining droids converted from Basilisks sat, which were to work with the asteroids. The droids had a built-in filtration function, as well as special sound crushing units with powerful magnets. The technology is simple and primitive, allowing the extraction of clean, already enriched ore. Did I already say I love Mandalorians? I won't hesitate to repeat it several more times.
By the end of listening to all the reports, I was already ready to pass out, but Zara came with a packet of information on the Tion Hegemony. It turned out that these individuals also got hit by the Republic, although they were never allies to the Terrans or especially to the Hadian Empire. They appeared much later, and after their region was steamrolled, the locals developed a fierce dislike for Republicans. The Sith even made use of this somehow, but unsuccessfully. The Tion Hegemony is not as strong, and especially not as warlike a faction as the Mandalorians. Having got a beating, they didn't kick, but they held a grudge, that's for sure. And now these guys are shouting that they have nothing in common with the Republic, and the worlds that supposedly belong to it are considered part of the Hegemony, which, I repeat, is not part of the Republic.
In itself, the Tion Hegemony is a collection of kingdoms, leagues, and other space rabble that united during a large general disaster for them. In terms of industry they don't represent anything special; there are also too few workers there. The Corporates significantly surpass their neighbors on both points. But! The Hegemony has many planets, including dead ones, but with preserved resources. These resources drip into Kuat's piggy bank. The Corporates, however, have good connections with the Techno Union, which, again, has problems with raw material supplies. Man, what a powder keg! Fine...
Let's look at it from another side. We have those who don't care for the Republic. And they have resources... Which we, in principle, don't need, but if we have them, then they won't go to others. Or they will, but, again, with profit for us. Hm... I wonder, will Fay be very offended if I ask her to clone herself? Or grow a couple of clones myself...
Making a note of possible allies and adjusting the galactic map, I finally head to sleep. And two hours later the alarm clock was already ringing and reminding me that I had to catch the liner.
Invigorated with the help of the Force and having meditated in the ordered car on the way to the spaceport, I got rid of the visible state of "Bury the corpse" and became like "Dangerous. Do not touch." And the notification in the morning from Kassh didn't add to the mood. Some problems there, because of which Talia will have to lie down a bit longer. And I really want to hear her voice. Feel the emotions, or at least see them on her face. I'm quite the addict in that regard.
For a moment I even remembered how I teased Hadiya and annoyed Vessira with my jokes. And how my catara chased me around the Qigong Kesh temple—mmmm... Those were the days.
Having raised my mood with a warm echo of the past, I board the cruise ship. Since the scout following Sheev reported that he had boarded, we didn't rush. On the contrary, we calmly distributed the things, ordered a few cocktails to the "spouses' " cabin, and listened to the Force. And there was something to listen to, because the oddities were not long in coming.
"Strange. I feel at least several Force-sensitives on the ship," Radiy spoke up.
"Two," Zara added, "and both with a balance shifted toward the light side."
"And what the devil are Jedi doing here," I rub the bridge of my nose.
"Master Aero, do you feel Sheev?"
"No. The boy is hiding too well, so we'll have to take a walk and look at him up close."
"What are the instructions regarding the Jedi?"
"None for now. We'll see who they are and what they're doing. I don't think they're here for us or for Sheev. More likely just flying on business."
When the ship had already gone into hyperspace, we decided to look for the target. Radiy and Zara went one way, I the other. The ways to entertain oneself on the ship were obscenely many, and judging by the reports on young Palpatine—he could be anywhere.
Passing the SPA salon, restaurant, and casino, I accidentally heard shouts from the bar. Peeking inside, I see a group of aliens of the most diverse social strata sitting in front of a TV screen and fervently cheering for some racing pod. And the one shouting loudest of all was a guy of about eighteen or nineteen, with ruffled hair, cheeks red from alcohol, in an expensive suit of typical Naboo style.
Walking to a free table, I sit down. Taking advantage of the commotion, I take out a holoprojector and send a notification that I've found the target.
"Will you have something?" a waiter droid on a monowheel rolled up to me.
"Is there beer?"
"Of course."
"Bring a glass, and something for a snack."
"In a moment, sir."
"Yes, yes, do him, go on! Come on!" yells resounded near the screen.
No sooner had they brought my order than the race ended. And almost immediately Sheev struck a Nautolan right in the face from a turn.
To be honest, I didn't understand why myself, as suddenly another fan hit his neighbor, and then a whole brawl began, where fans of their favorite racers were actively pounding each other.
"I see... What a turbulent youth you have, Sheev," the thought flashes at the sight of the fight.
Soon security flew in and immediately calmed everyone down. No one was led away or locked up; the matter ended amicably, but they were given a reprimand. When Radiy and Zara came to me, the race fans were already sitting calmly and discussing the past competition, and Sheev was cooling off at the bar counter.
By the way, amusing. In all this time he never showed his talent in the Force. Moreover, I didn't even feel him as a Force-sensitive. Not at all. And that was curious.
So as not to attract unnecessary attention, Radiy and Zara sat at the next table. And it had to happen that Sheev set his eye on Zara. She looked so beautiful that Palpy adjusted his suit, smoothed his hair, shook himself off, and went exactly to her.
And I don't even know whether to laugh or cry...
"Greetings, respected lady. May I know what such a beauty is doing alone and in a bar?" Sheev bowed respectfully in the best traditions of the aristocracy. And yet five minutes ago this guy was enthusiastically participating in a fight. Now, in his slightly crumpled suit, a bit disheveled, he possesses some kind of charm, perhaps? No, just an amazing actor.
"I am not alone. My husband is with me," Zara replied without even moving an eyebrow, pointing to Radiy.
"Husband?" Sheev was surprised. "And I thought a droid..."
"Watch your words, kid," Radiy replied in his signature mechanical voice without emotion.
"My apologies. May I know with whom I am speaking?" Sheev swallowed the insult, although in his emotions he flared up quite a bit.
"Radiy Inastric."
"Oh! Pleased to meet you. And what is your spouse's name?"
"Zara Inastric."
"I am immensely pleased by our meeting. My name is Sheev Palpatine, of the house Palpatine from Naboo. May I join your company?"
"Please."
"Thank you. Once again I apologize for the insult; may I treat you?"
"Go ahead."
Sitting literally at the next table, I was quietly leaking. On one hand, Sheev was making new acquaintances literally out of thin air. Just like that, from nothing, and wriggling like an eel. On the other hand, this character didn't leave the desire to hit on Zara; evidently, he really liked her, which was confirmed by the emotions, which could be interpreted something like this:
"Oh, what a flower... She must be mine! And you, under-droid, you'd better clear off; I hate you, tin can!"
And when Sheev realized that Radiy was the "director" of a firm and Zara the "owner" of that same firm, the activity of the hitting on increased manifold. The guy literally deployed all his charm and allure, but nothing could help him break through Zara. It seemed this only spurred him on even more.
So as not to bother his eyes once more, I decide to self-eliminate, wishing my comrades luck. Having such an opportunity for communication, they definitely shouldn't miss the moment where this kid gets off the ship. On the other hand, it's far from a fact that Sheev is flying to Damask now. Moreover, I don't even have certainty in their connection. The question of how best to proceed continues to be relevant. Shadow him? Or pin him to the wall and shake him? Breaking him is no problem, but could it turn out that Sheev will be useful to me? A dilemma...
Stopping in the corridor with a viewport, I looked at the haze of hyperspace.
"If I'm wrong and the boy has nothing to do with it? It won't be good... But the Force tells me I'm right after all. Damn! And I've already pulled at history; what if Sheev isn't involved? But there are no other leads. I hope I haven't made a mistake and haven't completely ruined the canon. I hope that's how it is... Force, please, at least now don't give me new surprises!"
"What, Aero, decided to change your style?" a familiar voice suddenly resounded behind my back.
"...Damn! Well, I did ask," I sigh and turn around. Qui-Gon Jinn was standing nearby in the company of a Twi'lek unknown to me. "Even better... Right, I get it. No more appealing to the Force."
"Oh. My apologies," Jinn bowed apologetically, "it's just that from the back you reminded me of an acquaintance."
"Nothing to worry about. Are you—Jedi?"
"Exactly so."
"You aren't often seen. Some mission?" I smile.
"No. Just returning to Coruscant."
"Just returning?" I looked at the liner. "And I thought Jedi were modest."
"That is so. But..." Jinn hesitated, clearly not knowing what to say.
"Don't worry about it," the second Jedi took the word, "it's just that we completed a mission and we were lucky enough to get these tickets. In normal conditions we fly much more modestly," and the Twi'lek moved his hand, trying to use a mind trick.
"Yeah, as if I'd believe that. 'Just returning,' sure. I wonder what they really lost here?"
"As you say. All the best... Jedi."
Turning, I walk further down the corridor, listening with one ear:
"Jinn, what came over you?"
"I didn't understand myself. I was ready to swear it was Shade Aero."
"Hm... We'll take note. Jinn has a very well-developed hunch."
Turning the corner, I don't go any further. Deciding to shadow this pair, I followed carefully on their heels, using the Force as a guide, and without catching their eye.
And what was my surprise when in the course of the shadowing I noticed how this pair sat down at the same table where Sheev, Radiy, and Zara were sitting. Deciding not to tempt fate further, swearing and cursing the Force with its surprises, I returned to the cabin, where I began to wait for my scouts.
They, unfortunately, made themselves wait. And when they came, I learned very, just very much new.
"WHAT the f*ck?!" I loom over Radiy.
"The Jedi are escorting a representative of the Senate from Naboo to Coruscant. They have a specific task—to help the senator from Naboo negotiate with a representative of the Trade Federation."
"Arrsh sharrkta rukasha tarrrkonak, anrraksh sharonarrrr!!!" pacing the room, I swore, with the most choice expressions from my native language, which even Mom didn't always remember. Simultaneously crushing the tablet that came to hand into the state of a tightly pressed ball. So pressed that it became solid. "Right. Okay," stopping, I rub the bridge of my nose. "I am calm. I am perfectly calm. Let's go in order, Radiy."
"Given that we are clearing the region, Naboo has started asserting its rights with the Trade Federation. Supposedly it's becoming safer, yet these ones continue to fleece as before. The Trade Federation was naturally taken aback by such statements and started tightening the bolts, offering as an alternative an even more profitable contract for them. From the side it looked like an outright mockery. An attempt to negotiate with another partner led to nothing, because in that case the TF would arrange a complete blackout for Naboo."
"Intervention?" I raise an eyebrow.
"No. Just isolation. They will stop carrying absolutely all goods to the planet and from the planet, and since the TF is the only giant in the Outer Rim, you know the consequences yourself. And the small firms will self-eliminate because they'll be afraid to get involved with that same Trade Federation. Sheev, as the senator of Naboo, must sort out this problem, and the Jedi are protecting him, to avoid pressure from the Trade Federation."
Collapsing into the chair, I throw back my head and look at the ceiling.
"It doesn't get any easier."
"What do we do?"
"Let me think."
Sitting in the chair, I went through the possible options for the development of events, and became only gloomier from that.
"Radiy, Zara. Do you happen to know why the Jedi didn't come to the bar immediately for their subject, whom they are supposedly meant to be guarding?"
"He wasn't alone. His personal security was also in the bar. While the Jedi were making a round of the ship, a couple of people in civilian clothes were sitting in the bar with him," Zara explained. "As I learned from them, they're no strangers to Sheev's antics. In his youth he changed eight higher academies, and he was expelled from seven of them. As Sheev told me himself, in two of them he was expelled for poor academic performance, as the teachers are idiots who don't understand what they're giving themselves. There was also an expulsion for a fight with a teacher, and he was silent about the rest."
"Lively... lad. By the way, he reminds me of someone," I thoughtfully tap my chin. "Ah yes, exactly..." I look at the faces of my comrades. "Don't worry about it, I just knew one, also a restless guy. Also fought with teachers, they threatened him with expulsions, also thought himself smarter than everyone... I see. Fine, forget it. What do you say about his personality?"
"Extreme degree of impudence. Evasive. Cunning. Cynical. Arrogant. Doesn't put anyone even on a par with himself. Tries to show who is master of the situation; if not, then tries to become such. Also—the life of the party. Knows how to talk, attract attention, and charm. All this without the use of the Force."
"What a character."
"Doesn't hesitate to relax at his pleasure. Loves to drink, adores sports cars, as well as racing pods."
"I understood that much," I huff.
"That's all for now."
"Fine. So... He's flying to Coruscant?"
"Yes, Master Aero."
"Then there are no options. We need to shake him down carefully."
"And the Jedi?"
"If they interfere—they'll go overboard. But fortunately, I don't think that will be necessary," I move closer to Zara. "Now, my dear, you say you caught his eye?"
***
Read the story months ahead of the public release — early chapters are available on my Patreon: patreon.com/Granulan