The lift to the station’s diplomatic ring felt as if it rose more quickly than a normal turbolift should. By then, the glaring klaxons had already gone quiet and the lights had reverted to normal, although not everywhere. Most of the stations' corridors were still illuminated by the ergency lights, although in an amber hue rather than crimson, with the secondary warning signs indicating that they were not yet out of danger.
"Tsk," Vila smacked her lips once as we rode upwards. “Even I can sll the panic here,” she muttered, her hands tucked inside her clothes, sabers hidden, probably holding them.
HK didn’t join us physically this ti around. Instead, he was 'ghosting' us along our flank through the station’s maintenance subsystems, coming along as what he called... an assassin's way.
[Status: I exist in their walls. Reassurance: If soone turns out the lights, I will still be able to see and snipe the atbags.]
“Comforting,” Vila said dryly, listening to him through our earpieces, "You are really in your elent, aren't you?"
I didn't hear his answer as the doors slid open on the diplomatic ring’s main gallery at that mont, being loud as they scratched a line into their sockets. The place we stepped into was like a crescent-shaped hall, with cream‑colored durasteel and panels of faceted crystal from the planet itself, the type that threw a hundred thin rainbows onto the floor.
Stylish? Or overbearing? Probably both.
Not far from our entrance, two tired security troopers flanked the arch into the council chamber, their weapons held in a ready position. Their eyes skimd us, probably looking for identifications, so Vila made sure to flip her clothes just enough to let them see she was indeed holding her lightsabers. After that... they didn't stop us, allowing us to proceed.
The chamber beyond them had been dressed for... opulence. That was the only word that ca to mind. Art pieces, statues, carvings, old furniture, and whatever else that was probably priceless. It made feel... nasty, for so reason. I didn't like it, not in the least. The whole place just felt... wrong. A round table occupied the middle, a bit low, with inset holoprojectors and a stretch of suspended light-ribs overhead, beaming light at six chairs, from which only three were occupied. The one who rose with asured and deliberate grace from those three, wearing a commander's uniform, greeted us, and his voice was the sa who 'welcod' us to the station. And the sa who told the Mandalorians to stop their assault.
“I am Commander Dhar of Christophsis Orbital,” he said aloud, offering a diplomatic half-bow. “On behalf of our world, welco… and thank you for preventing our station’s shields from collapsing.”
Examining him, he had black hair, neatly combed back, blue eyes that smiled just enough to sell the diplomatic bravado, but I could feel he was anything but happy. The thing is... He was younger than I’d expected for soone who had such a voice. But looks can be deceiving...
Moving my eyes, beside him sat an actually elderly man, way too old to be honest. His skin looked thin as wet paper... And the eyes... Way too pale and cloudy... He was barely present anymore as death had already claid his soul... That was how it felt to look at him.
"Lord Berrin Dhrune, head of House Dhrune," Commander Dhar said, seeing my eyes move to the old man. "My father."
Once again, I kept silent, as I wanted them to know we were not happy with how things were unfolding. So, without moving my lips, my eyes shifted again, glaring at the third figure, a woman in a rugged slate jacket, her hair pulled into a perfect loop around her head.
“Administrator Perra Len,” she said when our eyes t, “Station chief of civil operations.” She had the distracted look of soone still running a dozen subsystems from her wrist-mounted unit while pretending to sit still and dealing with us. Too bad she had no idea their systems were blown wide open for the enemy. Or maybe she knew now but had no clue how to close the doors... Mhm... focusing on her, it was the latter.
In the end, Vila and I stopped at the arc of the table opposite the trio. No one offered us chairs, which we hadn't asked for either, and no one moved to shake hands. Fine for ... I like it more this way.
“Commander,” I finally spoke up, “Lord Dhrune. Administrator.” I inclined my head to each in turn, then let the room sit a bit more while I reached outward with the Force, connecting to the edges of all three of their minds and testing the currents within them.
Dhar’s presence in the Force was flat and polished. Trained... not in the Force, but in a discipline that teaches to not think inconvenient thoughts at inconvenient monts. He was bred to be a politician; that was my first, honest reaction. But, I don't think he ever realized what it feels like to play the mind gas with a Jedi and with here... I could reach under the surface... Under the polish... Huh... What I found was... pure ambition, self-importance, and pride. So much pride... He believed himself necessary, right, and most of all, the smartest man in the room.
I think my goal here will be simply to buy enough ti to determine who is actually responsible... That one-hour ti limit was already way too narrow for anything else.
On the other hand, Berrin Dhrune was a being altogether different. His mind drifted back and forth like fog, seeping through collapsed mories and a fragnted psyche. Sotis a coherent shape drifted up, specific nas, a signature on a pad, a boy’s face at twelve... then it sloughed apart into a slow, pleasant... nothingness. He was dying, kept alive by drugs and who knows what, but by all ans of the Force... he should have already been allowed to take his final rest. Why was he dressed up and put in here? He can't be a leader... he was just a... puppet.
“Let’s be plain,” Commander Dhar said while I fell silent again, folding his hands on the table. “I know of the grudges the Mandalorians claim they have. Believe , when I say, it should be nothing but fabrication! Still, we are willing to cooperate with whatever you wish for, to bring peace back to our world. If an individual is responsible, that individual must be identified and held accountable, of course. If a faction is responsible, they must be dismantled and replaced, for bringing our world into this ss!"
I wondered... did the Mandalorians send a ssage to him, too? Or... Is this a prepared speech? Mhm... No... There were calculations behind every word of his.
[Observation: He is performing sincerity. Sub‑observation: The performance is practiced.] HK’s whisper echoed in my ears, making smile, unnoticeably, because I was feeling the sa thing.
"We already have nas," Vila didn’t bother playing, sending the file HK compiled over to the table's projector, “House Dhrune moved credits through three dead shells,” she explained, her voice pleasantly conversational. Still, for the experienced ear, it was provocative. “Those credits bought pirate ships. We should skip to the part where the person in this room who signed those transfers starts explaining himself.”
"Unbelievable..." Dhar’s 'surprise' was as fake as his previous smile, “My father’s seals were used... Unbelievable...” he said, looking it over, his mind racing. “Could it be a forgery?” His hand touched the old man’s sleeve with faked gentleness, “Lord Dhrune’s... My father's condition has...” He searched for the most dignified lie he could co up with. “...declined. There are powers of attorney in place; there are also vultures everywhere... I had lately begun to suspect that both were used; that is why I moved my father here, where I can care for him and keep the others from abusing his imnse power. I promise you, there will be an investigation! And there will be cooperation, of course.” His eyes moved to mine, smiling again, but not really.
"I..." The old man suddenly blinked, tracking the sound of Dhar’s voice as his consciousness, for just a brief mont, and to my surprise, returned to his body, “I signed the shipnts,” he murmured, “Always the shipnts. They told ... My boy said it was fine. Good for trade. Good… yes.” His voice dwindled.
If not for Vila scoffing, I would have done it. The way Dhar's body tensed, already thinking about how to respond while cursing his lucid father, was way too satisfying. I didn't need evidence, I felt it in him... He was just using the poor man, and now, at the worst possible mont, his old man betrayed him...
"We," Perra Len, probably his accomplice, cut in to hurry the topic forward, “We will provide any records you require,” she said crisply. “We ask in return that you instruct the Mandalorian force to withdraw beyond the outer-asteroid ring while we compile—”
“Administrator,” Vila cut in without looking at her, “if the plan is stall‑and‑sanitize the situation, skip it. The Mandalorians will not withdraw, not even if we ask them to.”
"..." At that, Dhar’s fake smile crumbled... by three degrees, turning into a frown, slowly but surely. The plane of his thoughts shivered, rippling from a flicker of annoyance, but then smoothed out again. “You have data,” he said. “Do you have context? Do you have intent? The Mandalorians seek vengeance by their code; we respect their creed. Christophsis lives by law, too. But! I will not allow a sick, old man to be dragged to an airlock because a foreign power declares our courts inadequate... My father is innocent. If you give ti, I can gather the evidence and find who used my dear father to their own stupid goals!”
What a load of bantha shit. I almost cursed out loud... This man is unbelievable. He wanted to use this opportunity to eliminate the other families, the competition he was having in ruling Christopsis. And he was using his father as a shield? I can understand using us, but your own father? Really? Are all noble families like this...? I asked myself, rembering my own.
“Your broadcast used us as a shield,” Vila said, tilting her head, her thoughts going along the sa line as mine, “You knew they were coming, didn’t you? You invited us... You waited until the exact mont to throw the word ‘Jedi’ out like a lifesaving belt. Lucky for you, it worked.”
"..." Perra flinched at her voice, but Dhar did not, speaking... plainly. “We used the tools at hand to prevent a massacre,” he said simply. “It worked.”
"Yeah..." I felt Vila’s anger flare up, but she kept it under control... for now.
“Commander,” I said, “the Mandalorian captain has given us an hour to produce the responsible parties or a credible path to justice. He does not trust your courts... and frankly speaking, I understand why. You do not trust his warships... I also understand why. The Jedi can bridge that space for as long as reason holds...” I let my hand rest on the table, looking at them. “But we need cooperation. An imdiate one.”
"..." Dhar’s gaze flicked to his father, playing the loyal son's role, expecting to ask him to hand him over to the Mandalorians. Deep down... he was exactly what he wanted to do. “What cooperation?” He sighed, defeated.
“Three things,” I said, counting them out, knowing this is where his expectations will fall flat, “First: grant my droid root access to the networks so he can excise the backdoor that your enemies seeded through an R‑series scomp link. Second: freeze and mirror all House Dhrune financial traffic for the last standard year. No deletions, no ‘legal holds’ that route to blackholes... I want it now and as it is. Third: secure both Lord Dhrune and his signatory proxies in a neutral chamber monitored by us until we complete a preliminary review and a formal parley with the Mandalorians. Don't worry, we won't hand your father over to them.”
As expected, the whole room went silent. Not that I wanted any of those points to be t... I just needed to drag Dhar out, as he was the key to this all. My actual goal was to make his mask slip...
"R-r-respected Jedi..." Perra’s eyes widened, stuttering before finding her voice, “You want... Root access? To the station? Absolutely not! We’ve already suffered—”
[Statent: Stop it.] HK slid into the intercom like a villain, swiveling around in his chair, announcing his presence. [Rude Correction: You have suffered from not having in charge already. Reassurance: I will not break your toys. I will save your atbag lives, however weird that is for .]
"Perra," Dhar lifted a hand without saying 'calm' or 'please,' ending the discourse on her end. “Jedi Varo,” he looked at next, “you ask for extraordinary powers in the middle of a crisis. You can't be serious.”
“A crisis is exactly when you grant them.” I shot back at him, "If you believe the Mandalorians won't fire on the station when the hour is down, just because we are here... you don't know Mandalorians."
His thoughts rippled there, that little surge of alarm he couldn’t quite drown, no matter how he tried. I knew I hit a nerve because I was right. He miscalculated in the past, landing them in this ss... Indeed. He had no real knowledge of Mandalorians, except for what he had read in legends. But, he was not a lost cause either, especially for getting this far. I could feel his brain moving and turning.
“Then let us be extraordinary together.” He pald a signet from his belt, pressed it to the table’s inset authorizer. The holoprojector rose with a hum, painting soft blue letters across the air: TEMPORARY ERGENCY DELEGATION — NETWORK ROOT (MAINT). Beneath it, a line waited for his authorization hash.
[Observation: His ring on his pinky carries his private key. I can derive handshake residues and trace back everything from it.] HK’s whisper ca into my earpiece. [Statent: Buy ti to unravel it.]
I made sure to first just look at them, exchanging a gaze with Vila, as if we were deliberating without words, before I walked closer, signaling our acceptance of the situation.
[Acquisition: Key fragnt captured. Sub‑result: The sa key lineage appears in two historic authorizations. One of them is the Red Skulls and their hiring. Triangulation confidence: ninety-three percent. Satisfying Glee: There are more...]
"Jedi," Perra watched as the authorizer finalized the access. “You’ll log every change,” she said, addressing no one in particular. "Everything."
[Insulted Statent: Of course. I am a professional.] HK's voice ca through again. [Correction: I am no Jedi.]
"As for..." Dhar’s gaze returned to , ignoring HK's voice coming through the comm system. “The second demand... They, our records... They remain secured under Christophsis’ and my family's estate. I can't imdiately give them to you; we need to arrange for it.”
“I see,” I nodded, not that I cared about it. By now, I had more than enough. Of course... The Mandalorians would want all the data I can gather, so we will still need to retrieve it. However, my primary goal was to extend the one-hour mark indefinitely by capturing Dhar... with evidence backing it up.
“And as for the last,” Dhar said softly, almost forcing tears into his eyes, looking at his old man, “You want us to confine my father...”
“We want him safe,” I corrected him. Because I didn't trust Dhar at all... “And available to answer questions.”
"..." Once again, maybe because my mind was connected to him, Old Berrin’s eyes fluttered, and sothing cleared in them... just a little. “Are they… the Jedi?” he asked, watching .
“Yes, we are,” I answered gently.
There was a flicker of relief in him... I don't know why, but he smiled and then nodded, satisfied, and drifted away again.
"Just so you know," Dhar placed both hands flat on the table, being aggressive enough to look like a concerned son, “I will not present my father to Mandalorian executioners!” he exclaid, getting into his role, “But... I am responsible for Christopsis... So... I will cooperate with your review. We will present it to the Mandalorians, and we will determine together how to proceed to prevent further bloodshed and to find who used my father, framing him!”
"Heh," Vila let out a small, disbelieving laugh. “Are you sure?”
“Of course,” Dhar repeated, “Or would you prefer to declare here and now that the Jedi Order will deliver an old man to an enemy without hearing him? Throwing him to the wolves just because he can't defend himself?!”
[New Discovery: The signet’s derived fragnt matches an interdiate cert used to authorize the Luer Trust’s resurrection three months ago. Parent chain: Dhar Dhrune, acting regent. Confidence: Ninety‑nine percent. Addendum: I require two additional minutes of combing their internal PKI to elevate confidence to judicially uncomfortable levels.] HK spoke into my ear again.
"..." Vila’s eyes move to , hearing the sa words, ready for action, letting Dhar continue his heartfelt speech in the anti.
[Progress Report: Mirror established. Backdoor root excised from station shield control. Addendum: I have mapped the Dhrune private PKI. Result: The Red Skulls' disbursent was countersigned by Dhar Dhrune acting as regent, using the sa lineage as the signet we captured. Cross-checks with two other docunts increase confidence to 100 percent. Caveat: I have found pre-forged docunts that implicate rival families and their signatures. Anything he will present to us from their family's vaults will already be prepared to be tainted.]
Yeah... that was enough... I am not going to let Dhar enact any contingency plans he may have.
"Well then." I spoke, my hands falling to my side, "We will place Berrin Dhrune into secure confinent. Then, Commander Dhar Dhrune, you will have to follow us back to our ship."
"? Why?" He asked, suddenly stiffening, and the feeling I got from him made reach for my lightsaber, pulling it out and igniting it as a warning. The mont my hands moved, Vila did the sa, both of hers hissing as they turned on, painting her suddenly deadly serious face orange.
"I wouldn't try it." I warned him, my eyes moving down towards the table, where I could feel the danger signs, probably a blaster hidden there, "It seems you not only miss every detail about Mandalorians... You know even less about Jedi. Please... co with us in peace. Your father will remain safe on the station, while... I will guarantee your safety as we go over and talk with the Mandalorians."
Reviews
All reviews (0)