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Alee...
Alee bolted upright. She listened intently. Had she been dreaming? It was Qui-Gon's voice she'd heard. But it had sounded so full of joy, so heartbreakingly gentle. I must have been dreaming.
Light from the mouth of the cave filtered toward Alee, and she blinked rapidly to adjust. The swoop was silhouetted against the daylight. Everything seemed in place, but... There it was again. The sound of someone making their way across loose rocks. Alee slipped into a crouch and tapped her teeth with her thumb. Could the swoop have some sort of tracking device hidden on it? How would they know which one I'd take?
Alee weighed her options. Assuming her trackers were foes was only logical. She closed her eyes and brought to mind the map she had studied at the garrison. She had to be several hours away from Victory Mount. She sighed. Failure was not an option. Time to run.
Alee slipped through the tunnel to the swoop and mounted it. Gunning the motor to life, she leaned low over the handlebars and shot out of the cave. Right over the head of a surprised searcher. The swoop sailed through the air. Alee banked right as shouts followed in her wake. A blaster shot pinged off the rear stabilizer. The machine wobbled and lost a little altitude.
The swoop had higher lift than a speeder bike, but it was still a ground craft. Alee angled it down the mountain and out of blaster range. That man at the cave had been dressed like an Agrarian. What kind of game is Falk playing? Or does he have enemies in his own camp? The swoop darted over the uneven valley floor. Rather than weaving, Alee jumped mounds and rocks, giving her machine extra air and speed.
A red beam flashed to her right. Then another. She risked a glance backwards. Two swoops in pursuit. She frowned. Only two?
Alee opened the throttle and her Force-sense. The swoop began a weaving dance. Right to avoid a laser. Left to skirt an outcropping. Left again as a shot whined past her ear. A sharp right loomed ahead. Alee pushed the machine to its limits, banking high and outside on the turn, using centrifugal force to gain momentum. She shot out of the turn like a proton torpedo. It took all of her strength to hold the swoop steady.
When the machine was skimming along the valley floor again, she looked back. As she'd hoped, she'd gained valuable distance on her pursuers. Movement ahead and above her caught her eye. Two more swoops, angling down the flanking slopes on an intercept course.
Easing up on the throttle, Alee angled left up the mountainside. As the swoop ahead started to turn toward her, she swung so it was in her sights and fired two quick shots. The forward stabilizer sparked and smoked. The swoop jerked into a tailspin, tossing its rider into the air. As Alee flashed past, the man hit the ground and tumbled down the mountainside.
Alee stayed high on the slope. Her Force-sense warned of a crevice ahead. Cranking the throttle open to lift the nose, she roared off the edge and shot over the ten meter wide gorge. Don't look down. She held her breath until solid ground was underneath the swoop and veered down the mountain.
The other swoop swerved toward Alee, raking the rocks behind her with blaster fire. Chips ricocheted off her machine. She juked the swoop back and forth to avoid the lethal beams. The ground levelled out and Alee opened the throttle. She sensed her original two pursuers joining the third. The barrage intensified.
The swoop arrowed toward a sheer wall of granite. Right would take her to the pass leading to Victory Mount. What was it about the left path? No time... Alee cranked the machine left. Her cloak flapped against the rock face. An explosion radiated heat waves, making Alee's machine buck. She winced. Someone didn't make the turn.
The gorge Alee had entered narrowed ahead, its high walls closing in like a garbage compactor. Not good. No room to maneuver. She opened the throttle and focused on the slice of light ahead. Everything faded except her target. Pain knifed through her right calf, just above her boot. She ignored it. A strand of loose hair sizzled. She ducked lower.
Closer. Closer. One. More. Second.
A laser pinged off the backrest as she shot through the opening with less than ten centimeters' clearance. Right into a box canyon. That's what it was - a dead end. She cringed. Bad choice of words.
Alee circled the perimeter. The walls were too steep to get extra lift. She pulled the swoop as high as she could and skimmed as close to the rocks as she dared. The two remaining swoops burst into the canyon. The first bike shot straight ahead and signalled the second one to the right. It swung along the outer wall and aimed for Alee.
She throttled up and dove at her pursuer. He opened fire low and eased his nose up, still firing. A hail of red closed in from behind as the leader veered towards her. Alee jerked her machine right to avoid the frontal assault. As the two swoops flashed past each other, Alee arced her lightsaber in a blue blur that sliced through the swoop's rear stabilizer. The machine jerked, slamming into the cliff face.
The fireball propelled Alee downward. She swerved right and up to ride the wave of the explosion. Then left to avoid the other swoop as its rider fought to avoid being consumed by the blast.
Alee pointed her swoop at the crack and slipped back into the gorge. That was too close. As the chasm flared wider, she glanced over her shoulder. The last swoop was closing in like a tractor beam had it in its grip. He's persistent. And very good. She frowned. Too good.
Again Alee was forced to push the machine to its limits. As she broke into the open, she sensed two more swoops closing in along the valley floor. Reinforcements. No going back. She held the swoop on a steady course - straight for the pass.
The machine climbed steadily upwards, its three escorts keeping a steady distance and holding their fire. The summit of the pass came into view. What sort of surprise are they ushering me towards? She stretched out her senses and detected two men hidden amongst the bounders above the pass. An ambush with thermal detonators?
With the throttle wide open, she crested the summit. The swoop flew through the air. Alee glimpsed a chasm to the left and veered the swoop away from it to land on the downward slope of the pass. She kicked in the auxillary repulsors to buffer her landing.
As the repulsor field touched down a wall of fire erupted in front of her. Alee swerved right and two more gushers of fire spouted out of the ground. They've mined the pass. The Force help me. Alee closed her eyes and used her Force-sense. Left. And left again. She saw each explosion a micron before it happened and veered away. Dirt and rocks rained down. Heat from the blasts singed her cloak and caressed her hands and face.
In seconds she realized the mines were laid to drive her towards the cliff. She dodged right and explosions drove her left. And left. And left.
Surprise is a weapon. I can fight them, or I can do what they least expect. Alee leaned left and the swoop tacked violently. A shower of thermal detonators prevented her returning to the summit. As I thought. She opened the throttle.
As the swoop shot off the precipice, Alee swung her leg over the saddle and let herself fall.
"If this be a trick, Jedi, my men will destroy the ship," Falk said.
"It's no trick, Falk," Qui-Gon reassured the Agrarian. "The Trium is unescorted, unarmed and waiting in the salon pod."
Falk stood at the base of the Republic cruiser's boarding ramp with the two Jedi, next to three personal-sized repulsor sleds. He ran fingers through his white-blond hair. His posture reflected uncertainty.
"Be they willing, or be they forced to come, Jedi?" Falk's brown eyes flicked from Qui-Gon to Obi-Wan.
Amusement flickered across Obi-Wan's features. "They only required a little persuading."
Falk's look questioned the tall Jedi Master. Qui-Gon shrugged. "I told them if they want to continue eating, they'd better start talking."
The Agrarian's forehead furrowed like a cultivated field. "A'Lee be not happy about starving people. This does not sound like a Jedi thing."
"No," Qui-Gon said flatly.
"But they don't know that," added Obi-Wan.
"Ya be tricksters, then." Falk crossed his arms.
"No, Falk. I dislike deceit as much as you. If they pushed, I would follow through," Qui-Gon said. He offered Falk a small smile. "But perhaps, it would only be the Trium that would not receive food. I never really clarified that point with them."
Falk relaxed and his shoulders shook with silent laughter. "Ya be a sly one, Jedi. Slippery like a shaagot."
Obi-Wan leaned close to Qui-Gon. "Master, what is a shaagot?"
"I have no idea," came the whispered reply. "Something slippery, apparently."
Obi-Wan shook his head.
"I be hungry from feeding Technicks all day," Falk stated. "Soon it be my turn to eat. Let's go talk and be done."
The Agrarian started up the ramp. Qui-Gon took a single step and halted. A taut echo touched his mind. He opened his senses and felt ... tension, heat. The reverberation died away.
A hand touched his sleeve. "Master? What is it?" Obi-Wan asked.
"A disturbance in the Force," replied Qui-Gon. "It's gone now."
"Alee?" Obi-Wan asked.
Qui-Gon nodded slowly.
"Is she in trouble?"
Qui-Gon scanned the far side of the spaceport and the sky above. "I'm not sure."
Falk called down from the top of the ramp. "Be ya coming, Jedi?"
Qui-Gon nodded slightly and Obi-Wan followed the impatient Agrarian up the ramp. Qui-Gon didn't move. The Force be with you, Alee. He stared across the ferrocrete for a moment more, then cleared his mind and followed his Padawan into the ship.
Qui-Gon led the way into the salon, with Falk tripping on his heels. He certainly dislikes anyone else setting the pace. Qui-Gon halted at the head of the table and the Agrarian stepped around him. Obi-Wan stood back.
The three members of the Trium were already seated. Qui-Gon found it difficult to think of them as individuals. They frowned as one. They nodded as one. But they certainly ate as three. Maybe five. The three people before him were corpulent, with gaudy blue and orange robes of varying patterns that resembled tents, flashy rings festooning their sausage fingers, and a triple set of chins resting on their collars. Maybe three chins are a requirement of office. Qui-Gon kept his face solemn as he turned to do introductions.
The Jedi Master paused when he caught sight of Falk's wide-legged stance. The Agrarian had his arms crossed, exposing bulging biceps and accentuating his broads shoulders and narrow hips. His face was a study in disdain. An interesting contrast - except for the feelings - those are the same on both sides.
"Please be seated, Falk," Qui-Gon said.
"I like standing, Jedi," clipped the Agrarian.
"This is a negotiating table, Falk. It is a leveller of persons," explained Qui-Gon. "All parties sit so their eyes are on an equal level. No one is allowed to flaunt their power by looking down on the others. Please sit."
Qui-Gon kept his face open as Falk searched it. Falk nodded and slid into his seat.
"This is ridiculous," blurted the Trium member on the left.
Qui-Gon looked into flashing brown eyes capped by charcoal black eyebrows and matching wiry hair that frizzed around his head like a shadowy halo.
"How so, Member Rahtosy?" queried the Jedi Master.
Rahtosy flapped a plumb arm. "This simpleton knows nothing. Even basic courtesy eludes him. There can be no equality at this table. He isn't fit to polish my shoes."
Falk sneered and laid his clenched fists on the table.
The middle Technick, a male with white hair and green eyes, added, " And the creature is awled, Jinn. It is death for him to be in this city. At this table."
Falk jumped to his feet, chest heaving. Qui-Gon laid his hand on the Agrarian's shoulder and strained to push him back down. Qui-Gon pinned the Technick's green eyes with a hard blue stare.
"Member Glashny," he said quietly, "might I remind you that we are in a Republic diplomatic vessel. By law, it is Republic territory, regardless of where it sits. As such, it is neutral ground and no one at this table is under threat of anything." He turned his attention to the third person in the Trium, whose lacklustre auburn hair and dull hazel eyes parodied Alee's, and whose sickly white skin turned Qui-Gon's stomach. "Lady Member Krohly. Do you have any comments you wish to add to those of your associates'?"
The woman glanced at Falk and back to the stern gaze of the Jedi towering over the table. She shook her head sullenly. Qui-Gon paused and sighed inwardly. Any being completely lacking in Force-sensitivity would be knocked over by the tension at this table. I feel a headache coming on.
Qui-Gon eased into the chair beside Falk and said, "Good. Now that we all know each other, we can begin."
For two hours the talk ran in circles. The desire for equality. The denial it could exist. The mines. The food. The symbiosis of Technick and Agri. The denial it could exist. The power. And over again. By the end of the second hour Qui-Gon had clamped his hand over Falk's wrist and kept it pinned to the arm of the chair.
"This is pointless," said the black-haired Rahtosy. "In all our history, the Agris have never been our equals. We will never share what we have with them. They are only fit for field work."
Qui-Gon tightened his grip on the Agrarian and spoke. "They are not asking to move into your homes, Member Rahtosy. They are asking for a share of the wealth that they help generate, and a say in the governance of Gandeal. They want to work together. You will notice that though they are in control of the capital, they have not forced a political takeover."
"Only because they are not capable," interrupted Rahtosy.
Falk leaned forward and narrowed his eyes. "I be capable of a great many things, Technick leader. Even understanding yar minds. Ya sneer at us Agris, but without us ya starve. Ya look down yar fat noses at us, but ya fear us because we be strong and ya be weak. Ya hate us because we don't return yar cruelty with more of the same. One day of food and kindness be all it takes, Technick leader. I walked yar streets today. Yar people see our strength and know we'd bee good protectors. We be not greedy lifesuckers. We be Gandeal, walking and talking. Already they be forgetting the weeks of starving, but they be remembering the years of greed. Yar power be slipping through yar greasy fingers, mighty Trium. Soon ya be crawling, begging the Agris to share what yar own people will give us - control of Gandeal."
The Trium flared their nostrils as one. They stood as one.
They glared at an amused Falk as one.
Without a word, they turned and waddled out of the salon pod.
The door flashed closed. Qui-Gon released Falk's wrist, pressed
his fingers to his temples and massaged gently. It's quasar-sized
now. And growing. Qui-Gon invited calming ripples of the Force
to soothe his pounding head.
Obi-Wan spoke from four paces behind Qui-Gon, where he had stood the entire length of the meeting. "That went rather well, don't you think?"
Qui-Gon turned slowly and levelled a blistering stare at his Padawan. Obi-Wan shrugged and his eyes twinkled. He turned to the Agrarian and said, "Nice speech, Falk. You really hit a raw nerve."
Qui-Gon sighed. Falk snickered quietly, then pushed his chair back and planted his feet on the table. He laced his fingers behind his head and looked at Qui-Gon.
"Can I be asking ya something, Jedi?"
"Of course, Falk," replied Qui-Gon. He met the Agrarian's brown-eyed gaze.
"Why be that woman so white? She be looking like the belly of a dead swimmer."
Qui-Gon felt the force of Obi-Wan's grin and ignored it. He kept his eyes on Falk. "For some, brown skin is associated with hard labour. You work all day in the hot sun, Falk, and your skin shows it. All your people show it."
The Agrarian frowned. "Ya mean, she be thinking the whiter she be, the farther from us lowly Agris she be?" Qui-Gon nodded. Falk shook his head sadly. "They be proud of not having to work. Technicks be more foolish than I thought. We be happy to work. Work be giving us our pride and keeping us strong."
Qui-Gon thought of the pleasure he derived from being a Jedi and smiled. His headache faded. "Yes. Our work defines us and enriches us. Be proud of the strength you find in your work, Falk. Strength of body ... and of mind."
"But we be needing more than just work to keep us strong, Jedi." Falk dropped his feet to the floor and leaned forward expectantly. "We be needing food, too."
Obi-Wan chuckled and headed for the food processor station. My Padawan certainly never needs prodding when it comes to eating. Qui-Gon's eyes crinkled. Falk smiled and nodded.
A heaping plateful of Republic cruiser cuisine later, Falk eyed Qui-Gon's half-empty plate longingly. His brown eyes reminded Qui-Gon of some forlorn family pet.
"Be there any more, Jedi?" Falk asked.
Obi-Wan popped to his feet and slapped Falk on the back. "A man after my own heart. Another serving coming right up. I think I'll join you. Do you want anything else, Master?"
"Only fresh air. I think I might be ill if I have to watch the two of you devour another bite, never mind another plateful." Qui-Gon stood, nodded to Falk and strolled toward the door.
"Jedi," Falk called. Qui-Gon stopped and turned. With a quizzical expression, the Agrarian motioned to Qui-Gon's plate. "If ya won't be finishing yar food, do ya mind if I..."
Qui-Gon rolled his eyes and left the room, chased out by Obi-Wan's soft chortle and Falk's hearty laughter.
*****
The furious throbbing in Alee's arms and shoulders had eased to
a dull ache. Her hands were tender after being cut and scraped
by sharp rocks. Grabbing at that first ledge had slowed her fall.
Clutching the second shelf had stopped it. Dropping down another
four meters had brought her to the hollow she now crouched in.
The side of the steep cliff was riddled with small caves. With
her brown cloak to conceal her, Alee hoped to be able to hide
until dark.
Alee blew on her roughened palms, then gently massaged her biceps and risked a glance out of the shallow recess and down the cliff face. Two of her pursuers were rappelling down the mountain with incredible speed. Trying to beat the darkness. It was amazing they were even bothering, the way the swoop had crashed into the other side of the gorge and plummeted down, a comet trailing flames. They were being very thorough. When they reached the bottom and discovered the remains of the swoop and no trace of her, the search would blast into high orbit again.
This whole thing smells like a dead tauntaun. Alee's thumb tapped a steady rhythm on her teeth. Those were no Agrarians. Too methodical. Too ... professional. Whoever is after me knows what they are doing. Would the Technicks have hired mercenaries to track and destroy us? Why can't things ever be simple?
The Force was welcome company, filling Alee with calm acceptance and soothing her sore muscles. She inwardly inspected the laser burn above her boot, thankful it was shallow, then focused on rebuilding her energy stores for the climb ahead. The sun was setting as she heard voices and sensed the two climbers being hoisted rapidly back to the top of the cliff.
An hour passed. The dark was thick and warm against Alee's face. Time to go. She eased onto the lip of the cave and reached for her first handhold. The Force mapped her route, showing her the cliff face as if it were broad daylight. Still, the climb was laborious. With each advance, her hands cried out to let go and she had to let their pain sweep through her to be absorbed by the Force. Several times she heard voices drifting down the chasm - each time she froze, muscles quivering and sweat beading, until the sounds faded away. When Alee reached the first ledge she had grabbed during her fall, she stood on it and pressed her back against the rock wall that was still warm from the lingering touch of the setting sun. She expelled her breath slowly. If I never have to fall down a cliff again, it will be too soon. She rotated her shoulders and splayed her fingers, working the stiffness out of them. Alee hadn't heard voices in some time and didn't sense anyone in the immediate area. Should she continue climbing or get it over with?
Alee inhaled the Force and jumped. She flipped up and over the cliff edge, landing in a crouch. The slope was empty. She stretch out her senses. Three guarded the summit. Were there only two searching for her, or did they have even more reinforcements?
Alee glided down the incline. When she came to the first I.M. mine she hesitated, eruptions of flame blasting through her mind. Using the Force, she wended her way through the field of sleeping fire, deftly avoiding the trigger mechanisms.
The last of the mines were left behind without regret and Alee increased her pace. Still no hunters. The Force served as her eyes and the rough terrain required she keep her focus narrow. The Jedi skimmed over the ground, one with the dark silence blanketing the mountians. Odd that she had neither seen nor sensed any local animal lifeforms. This ecosystem seemed almost desert-like in its barren appearance. Still, Alee knew even deserts contained life if you looked in the right places. But maybe all this hardscrabble terrain was good for was mining.
Alee almost stumbled upon them before she sensed them. Two men, lying in wait. She quickly melted back into the charcoal shadows and skirted around the picket. Moving down the mountain, she came across two more pairs of searchers hiding in hopes of catching her passing by. Now I have nine on my tail, maybe more. I have a bad feeling about this.
Moonrise was starting to cast the mountains behind Alee into silhouette when she reached the valley floor. Heedless of detection now, she drew on the Force and wove rapidly amongst scattered boulders, becoming nothing but a blurred shadow to any electrobinoculars that might be trained on her. The Force-enhanced pace ate up the distance across the valley. When it started to curve around the base of a mountain, Alee slowed to a walk and scanned the terrain. As she advanced at a measured pace, the Force cycled through her and restored her depleted strength. And though she couldn't sense her pursuers, could she hope she'd lost them? Probably not.
The thought dropped away as her destination came into view. Victory Mount's granite arm shimmered, a pale grey mirage in the moonlight. Alee blinked, but it failed to vanish. She dropped into a crouch and began tapping her teeth. It could take days to search that whole mountain. If I were a young woman wanting to hide something more precious than even my own life, where would I conceal it? A person facing defeat would hide the key to victory in a place that would cry out to coming generations. And when the Agris sought to raise their arms in victory once again, they would need only look to ... an arm that is already raised. It has to be hidden somewhere around the arm. Sothar said that it was deep in the mount, so I'm looking for a cave. A cave with an entrance near the arm. The Force intensified around her and warmed her to the core. Alee knew she was right.
Springing to her feet, Alee took a moment to stretch. She ran her fingers over her skullcap of braids. They were itchy with dust and sand, and she longed for her usual single braid that only took seconds to undo or redo. She feared she would need four hands to get this mess untangled. Visions of Qui-Gon's long tapering fingers running through her hair came to mind and she groaned inwardly. This was not the time for wishful thinking. She violently pushed the thoughts aside.
The mission. The moment. That was her focus. Opening her Force-sense, she detected a glimmer of activity far behind her. Nothing like a deadly game of pursuit to get your mind off love lost. Do I dare try my comlink, or would they be monitoring link frequencies? Not much point - everyone is too far away to help anyway.
Alee pivoted and started jogging towards Victory Mount. An hour later she stood at the base and craned her neck to look up the length of the arm as it towered above her like one of the Jedi Temple spires. Murky shadows climbed the arm as the moon sank from sight and darkness reclaimed the land until dawn could break its grip.
The Force whispered that the searchers were gaining ground. While it lasted, darkness was the Jedi's ally. Alee started climbing towards the arm, probing caves and hollows with the Force, searching for one that ran deep and true. Her progress was slow, and the advancing foes were an increasing weight on her senses. Alee reached the joining, where arm and mount became one, with no sign of an opening that could lead into the mountain. She worked her way around the massive column, searching, prodding, poking with the Force. She couldn't be wrong. She couldn't.
She wasn't. She felt a slow smile growing on her face. Right in the crook of the arm was a narrow vertical crack barely one meter wide. With the Force, she could visualize the small opening giving way to a tunnel that arrowed straight at the mountain's heart, like a torpedo locked on its target.
The sky was imperceptibly lighter, with the barest hint of purple coloring the horizon, when Alee dropped flat on her stomach and started to slither into the crack. With only a few centimeters clearance she wiggled toward the tunnel beckoning ahead. Two meters were covered in agonizingly slow millimeters when the opening finally started to flare. Finally, Alee could creep, then crawl. She reached a small ledge and tumbled into the tunnel.
A slip of light filtered into the cave behind her. Alee studied the brightening gash. She closed her eyes and hunted her hunters with the Force - they were at the base of the mountain and moving up. It's like they know where I am. How can that be?
Alee stood as she sensed urgency tinging the Force. Wisps of loose hair brushed the ceiling, and her nostrils were filled with the smell of damp earth and rock mixed with a caustic odor that spoke of animal faeces. So this is where the wild things live.
With a final glance at the sliver of light, Alee turned and was quickly swallowed by the black throat of Victory Mount.
"I wasn't able to find much. If I had more time..." The green head-and-shoulders hologram of Jedi Knight Tahl wavered as she spoke.
"Anything at all could make a difference, Tahl. What were you able to come up with?" Qui-Gon asked. His fingers beat a rapid tatoo on the console.
Tahl replied, "The second spelling - Krail - is the name of a large family that is spread across Fondor, and a couple other planets."
Static ran through Tahl's image and Qui-Gon glanced questioningly at the comm officer. His reply was a shrug and more datapad entries. The holo cleared.
"Let's stick to direct Fondor connections," Qui-Gon said. "Any smugglers lurking in that branch of the Krail family?"
"Possibly. I have several reliable contacts that say the name may sound familiar. If it's the right guy, he's a small-time operator working the border between mid- and outer-rim. One informant said something about rumors the guy was dishonorably discharged from the Fondor military. Smugglers eat and breathe rumors. Make of it what you will." The holo of Tahl blinked sightless eyes and waited Qui-Gon's reply.
"Well, that's something. Is that all?"
"If you could give me more time..."
"No," said Qui-Gon. "It will have to do. Keep working on it if you want, but I've had this nagging feeling that time is something we may be in short supply of."
"The Force be with you, Qui-Gon."
"And with you, Tahl."
Her image winked out.
Obi-Wan leaned on the back of the chair beside his Master. "What now?"
Qui-Gon rubbed his beard. "Let's go find Falk. Hopefully, he will be in the cafeteria, eating his noon meal - its the only time he stops long enough to have a decent conversation."
"You have to admit, his energy was pretty impressive this morning when we were setting up temporary medstations to help out the regular centers. He could slip through the streets faster than the gravsled trains. By the time we got there with the medical supplies, he would have the whole operation ready and waiting for us." Obi-Wan paused. "How did the Trium take the offer of medical assistance from the Agris?"
Qui-Gon shot him a sideways glance. "If you'd been there instead of running some dubious errand for Falk, you would know."
Obi-Wan shrugged, his face bland, but Qui-Gon saw his green eyes sparkle.
Qui-Gon shook his head. It was hard to be irritated when he would have preferred to have done the same thing, if he'd had the choice. "The Trium was suitably appreciative in public. Behind closed doors they were furious that 'that power-hungry dirt farmer' was trying to win Technick loyalty with medical supplies stolen from them. And they hinted that he would pay for breaking the forbidding after we left."
"Their attitude toward Falk is softening."
"Why ever would you say that, Padawan?"
"He's moved up in their esteem from 'simpleton' and 'creature' to 'dirt farmer'. A step in the right direction, wouldn't you say?" Obi-Wan straightened and smiled at his Master.
"An interesting perspective. However, I think agreeing with you is akin to admitting desperation on my part," Qui-Gon replied dryly.
"I think you are close, Master. Very, very close."
Hazel eyes flashed through Qui-Gon's mind, followed by a bolt of concern. "You may be right, Padawan." Where are you, Alee?
After a brief moment, Qui-Gon turned to catch Obi-Wan's puzzled expression.
"Were we talking about the same thing just now, Master?" the Padawan asked.
"I highly doubt it." Qui-Gon stood. "Let's get going."
They caught up to Falk as he quick-marched along the catwalks, barely slowing down for patrols to issue reports. After several aborted attempts to speak to the Agrarian while half jogging behind him, Qui-Gon grabbed him by the arm and hauled him around, clutching his arm so he couldn't escape.
"Be ya wanting something, Jedi?" Falk scowled.
"Yes," replied Qui-Gon. "We need to ask you about the smuggler Alee was interested in. Krail. Where he was from."
"I know not."
"Could he have been from Fondor?" Qui-Gon persisted.
Falk shrugged. "He coulda been from Cor'sant. I know not."
Qui-Gon dropped his arm. "This might be important, Falk. If you can think of anything that could help us ..."
Falk looked across the plains to the mountains beyond. "I be knowing nothing about Fondor, except they be hungry soldiers. A'Lee be knowing, but she be gone."
"Our briefing made no mention of exactly whom you captured when you took the garrison. Alee was very interested in one particular Fondorian with a lot of valor pins. Is that the commander?" Qui-Gon asked.
"The scrawny one who be always complaining be the commander. But the leader be the general - he be the one with the metal on his tunic. He be the Fondor A'Lee speaks to. Ya want to be speaking with him, too?"
"Yes, Falk. I think it is very important we speak with him," Qui-Gon said softly.
"I be busy. Ya wait here. I be sending him to ya."
The Agrarian wheeled and disappeared down a stairwell before Qui-Gon could express his thanks. The Jedi Master leaned against the battlement and crossed his arms. Obi-Wan followed suit. Minutes later they could see a blue uniform moving across the compound in their direction.
"Not guarded," commented Qui-Gon. "There is trust building between Falk and this man."
"Or Alee trusts this general and Falk trusts Alee's judgement," suggested Obi-Wan.
"Either way is a commendation."
Qui-Gon studied the general as he jogged up the stairs. A trim older man of Obi-Wan's height, with weathered face and steel-grey hair, he radiated an aura of confidence. This was a man soldiers would follow into battle. The general's brown eyes locked with Qui-Gon's blue ones and he nodded, then extended his hand. Their hands clasped vise-tight, each assessing the other's strength.
"Ragen Sothar, gentlemen. You would be Qui-Gon Jinn," stated Sothar, looking up into the Jedi Master's face. He nodded at Obi-Wan "And the young ... ah ... assistant? No ..."
"Padawan, sir. I'm Obi-Wan Kenobi." Obi-Wan shook hands with the general.
Sothar stood at ease, his hands behind his back, content to let the Jedi set the pace of the interview. Qui-Gon hesitated. How much could this man be trusted with? His initial read of the general's character was good ... I have to trust my instincts.
"Alee twigged on an interesting bit of information, general," Qui-Gon said. "I was hoping you could help ascertain its importance."
"I would be glad to help. But, please call me Sothar. This is hardly a formal setting."
Qui-Gon nodded and gathered his thoughts. "The smuggler who supplied the Agrarians with their weapons may have a Fondor connection. His name is Krail."
Qui-Gon saw a flash of recognition in Sothar's eyes and stopped.
"There is a soldier in this unit named Krail," Sothar said. "Troublemaker, first class."
The Jedi scanned the general's features. Sothar was stoic, except for the jagged scar across his cheek, which throbbed.
Obi-Wan spoke up. "We were told this smuggler may have been dishonorably discharged from the Fondor military. It couldn't be the one here in the garrison, then."
Sothar's eyes narrowed. "No. But it could be his brother. That Krail was under suspicion for the rape and murder of a senior officer - a very competent young lady that served under my command twice. It never went to court martial. Someone very high up intervened. Instead, he was discharged and promptly disappeared."
"When did this happen?" Qui-Gon asked.
"Three, almost four years ago."
"So how long have the Agrarians been stockpiling weapons?" mused Qui-Gon.
"Alee might know from her talks with Falk," suggested Obi-Wan.
Qui-Gon was quiet for a moment, then returned his attention to Sothar. "Is there any chance your Krail is still in contact with his brother?"
"Possible. Not that he'd tell you. He's on the verge of being given the boot. I've filed the request, but it's stalled on some datapad in personnel. He's not about to cooperate with anyone. Only listens to me because I've threatened violence and he isn't sure if I'm bluffing."
"Are you?" Obi-Wan asked.
"It would have to be one fouled-up day, son. I'm capable, but I don't think I have the heart. Seen too much death and destruction in my time," Sothar replied. "Krail isn't worth much, but any more blood on my hands is too much."
Qui-Gon decided his liked this man. Honest. A hard man who had kept hold of his humanity.
Sothar faced the battlement and braced his arms on the wall. "Where is this going, Qui-Gon? Do you think this Fondor connection is more than a coincidence?"
"In my experience, there is no such thing as a coincidence," Qui-Gon replied.
"Does Alee agree with you?" Sothar turned his head to watch the Jedi Master.
"I would love to know, but she's not here to ask." At Qui-Gon's answer, puzzlement creased Sothar's face. Qui-Gon shook his head. "I can tell by your reaction that you are no more knowledgeable about Alee's activities than I am. She warned me she works best alone." Qui-Gon paused. "I think she has kept each of us - you, me, Falk - in his own compartment. She may see the whole hologram, but we only see bits and pieces. If you're willing, Sothar, I think it's time we all got together and connected the bits."
"An excellant idea." Sothar nodded approvingly.
"Now all we have to do is locate Falk," said Qui-Gon.
"No problem," Obi-Wan muttered. "Like finding
water on Tatooine,"
