| Vernice had her own agenda to take care of. There was nothing to keep them here now that Inga's fate was at last out in the open. Getting caught up in the affair and letting herself be captured was the easy part. How to go about reversing her current situation was going to prove much more of a challenge. She knew that Qui-Gon would want to leave soon, no doubt he would offer Merdan some substantial offer of money by way of thanking him for a pleasant stay whilst explaining that his nephew was ill or some such scenario…Qui-Gon had quite an inventive brain when it came to finding excuses. In his younger, less disciplined years he had a talent for it… No time for recriminations now. The past was the past and she had to concentrate on the present. Whatever excuse Qui-Gon came up with for his own early exit from Nargotria they were going to have to be prepared incase things went wrong. A little precautionary work would certainly do no harm at all. She knew where the swoops and speeders were kept down in the vaults she had passed through when first brought to Merdan's establishment. There wasn't one single detail that Vernice had not made an effort to capture in her memory; after all it was better to know the strengths of the enemy as well as the weaknesses. There strengths: the number of men, armed and potentially violent. Rufus Merdan, an opponent not inclined to sentimentality who would let nothing get in his way of achieving his goals. There also numbered some ten swoops and nine speeder bikes to their name, which would make any cross-country pursuit a very difficult situation to survive. Weaknesses: the men that Merdan employed seemed both stupid, and of late rather edgy. Qui-Gon would not be able to see this for himself having only newly arrived but she being their for longer had spotted the change in mood as if it had been a big, black thundercloud hovering on the horizon. Something was going to happen soon and no doubt Rufus Merdan had spotted it too, and was preparing accordingly. She couldn't do anything about Merdan but she certainly could put one of the threats beyond hope of help. Following the guiding trail left by the force, Vernice retraced her steps back to the hanger where the speeders were kept, watching her own back against any sudden attack from one of Merdan's hired henchman who it seemed were conspicuous by their absence. That in itself was highly strange and only increased the mater's belief that something extremely volatile was lurking underneath the brothel's cheep and seedy facade. Even if someone had been there she would have got past them for there were no prizes in this game for finishing runner up, except perhaps a one way trip over the side of the mountain… She wished she had her sabre with her! How useful it would have been to have it with her to work with in the darkness, both as a torch and a cutting implement…now she would have to rely purely on the force to aid her with the task in hand. The lockable door had proved extremely difficult to crack, with its seven-bolt mechanism and the inter-connected alarm system. The holo scanning security devices hadn't exactly been a pushover either, yet Vernice knew that this was where her own specialist skills belonged. She'd spent to many years associating with the likes of Megwiz, the notorious Corellian safe breaker, not to pick up some of his more undesirable traits. Combining his own 'talents' with her own knowledge, Vernice had learned early on how to use the force to manipulate locks. She could almost see the devices and feel it as the equipment started to bend to her use of the force. This was why the council had sent her to help Qui-Gon, she was certain. That and the fact she was a lot prettier than he was… The last bolt slid back and the door moved a fraction, the same moment that Vernice reached out and killed the alarm, which had been within a split second of activating. Now all there remained to do was to go in and put the speeders out of action. She knew she might not have the time to deal with all of them, besides if they all stopped working it might well make Merdan suspicious. This was just the sort of thing that might trigger of an extreme reaction in the man, and she was almost certain that the way things were going right now it wouldn't take very much to see that happen. Once they found out she was gone, and had taken Jemmiah with them… There was no going back now. Under the tarpaulin Vernice made out the shape of the first speeder and moved purposely towards it, activating the light to its lowest possible setting so that she could see what she was doing. She was the first to admit that she had wrecked many a speeder bike in her time back home on Coruscant but never had she managed to do ten at once! With a final glance towards the door Venice set to work, trying to tip the odds of survival a little more in their own favor. ******* "Mr. Keleskladt." Merdan hailed the man in a neutral, if not quite friendly voice. "I am glad you are so prompt for once. Won't you be seated?" Rufus indicated the chair opposite his own desk. "No? Very well, as you please." "What's this about?" Keleskladt asked in a voice that suggested he was more than a little bit suspicious. "Or have you got someone that needs disposed of, is that it?" "In a manner of speaking." Merdan nodded coolly. "But we will get to that shortly. For the moment I wanted to have a little discussion about your future." "My what?" Keleskladt's voice wavered disagreeably. "Precisely." The grey eyes didn't so much as flinch. "What I mean to say is that I have seen in you a hidden potential which I feel is wasted at this present moment in time. You should be playing a much greater role than the one you currently fill. The moment I clapped eyes on you I could see that you were destined for greater things." The tone in Merdan's voice did not seem particularly sarcastic and yet Keleskladt couldn't help but frown. Fawning and sycophantic gestures were not part of Merdan's usual repertoire and that immediately put Keleskladt on his guard. Had Merdan somehow got word of the planned coup and was now seeking to buy his trust with a position of greater authority? Keleskladt didn't need it: he didn't need Merdan either. The man was dangerous but he was still only one man whilst Keleskladt had managed to win over quite a number of Merdan's men. If only they had found the armory! "It's good of you to take an interest." Replied Keleskladt gruffly. "I am always interested in my business." Merdan replied, eyeing him venomously. "I like to know what is going on around me at all times. Do you think you are such a person?" he asked him, feigning curiosity. "I would like to think so." Keleskladt shrugged his shoulders a touch. "Always I make sure that things get back to me, you see. It's a matter of life and death sometimes as I am sure you will appreciate. That is why I find your own somewhat pathetic attempts at taking over my business here on Nargotria so completely contemptible." Merdan had never seen a man break into a sweat within such a short space of time and although he didn't move a single muscle or show a modicum of enjoyment, Rufus inwardly delighted in watching his enemy suffer. "I ALWAYS know, Keleskladt. Always. I've been watching you for a while now but I had no proof of your deceit until this morning. You were seen…" "I don't know what you mean." Keleskladt snapped. "That's what I always liked about you," Merdan broke into a grin worthy of the cleverest fox, "you are so utterly predictable. I have a suitable roll for you as a gargoyle outside the south exist. I'd love to have you dropped in carbonite just so that I might have the pleasure of looking up and seeing you against the wall, but no. You might actually survive that. I've learned my lesson too well." Merdan stood up and fished a blaster out of his desk drawer, pointing it towards Keleskladt's chest. "I have done nothing!" Keleskladt began to plead in terror. "It was Birchil! He was the ringleader…and Dawes!" "Thank you." Nodded Merdan approvingly at the shivering wreck of a man. "That was very kind of you to tell me. Saves me having to look for myself. Now, I'm going to help you achieve your hidden potential, Keleskladt. You see, it is my profound belief that the best position you would be suited to in this organization is deceased." "Please, I swear…" begged the guard, his eyes staring at the doorway. "No time for swearing. I make the decisions round here, not you and not anybody else." Merdan breathed dangerously. "You have broken into my office by using means that I find disagreeable, you have caused damage to my property. You have abused a position of authority within my establishment," Merdan walked towards the quaking, sweating man, "all heinous crimes in my eyes. But do you know what I find most irritating?" Keleskladt said nothing. Merdan didn't particularly care whether he spoke or not as he continued pointing the blaster at Keleskladt's chest. He watched the gold and blue sparks as the gun discharged it's lethal shot straight into the man's upper torso, listening to the sound of Keleskladt's body as it hit the floor with a sudden, dull thud and smelling the pungent scent of burning flesh in his nostrils. Rufus Merdan looked down at the body, unimpressed. "You ruined my rugs." Merdan pointed to the mud stained silk weavings on the floor where Keleskladt's feet marks were still very much in evidence. He turned to the guard that stood watching dispassionately by the mouth of the doorway. "Move him out of here. Throw him away somewhere he won't be found." That was one problem solved, but the other might be more complicated. What did he do about Logan? ************ It was so dark inside the wine cellar that Jemmiah could barely see her own feet. There was no way that she could see her hands because they were bound behind her back, imprisoned by the restraints placed around her wrist. They weren't so tight as to be uncomfortable but they most certainly would be if she tried to escape. Excessive movement would trigger of a small charge of energy that would shoot a painful jolt of current right across her body. People had died from malfunctioning restraints of this kind. If the current was too strong or the person was weak it could seriously damage or even kill. She'd already tried to undo the intolerable contraption - Levinstowe's personal favorite instrument of suffering - with no reward other than numbed arms and weak breathing from the discomfort of the stun. You'd think I'd have learned by now, Jemmiah rested her head against a wall, hating the place and hating the memories that went with it. Restraints and me just do not get on…restraints and 'I', that is. she correct herself, thinking of Nadine's lessons in grammar and etiquette. So, she could spell better than most kids her age and could walk like a princess but what good was that going to do her now? How was she ever to get the flimsy note back to Vernice if she were doomed to die shut away in the horrible darkness? It was then that a frightening thought suddenly occurred: what if Merdan had absolutely no plans to ever let her back out? A blaster would be quicker and more merciful, but would he be feeling charitable to her when he realized that she was sick? I don't want to die, not now. Jemmiah ceased struggling against the restraints, aware that she was only causing herself more harm than good fighting against them, besides which it was just too painful to move. I wish I was free…I wish we all were! This isn't how I want to die! I don't want to be alone…it's not fair! Life wasn't fair. That was the one thing that Nargotria had taught her over the years. If it were fair her mother and her brother would still be alive, she would be back on Corellia playing in the gardens and watching her per Vampki run distractedly round the lawn. Imagination combined with some of her nicer childhood memories to try and conjure up an escape. A physical retreat from her jail was impossible, but at least they could not touch her memories. She sighed and closed her eyes, shutting out the darkness with yet more dark. "I guess I'll never get to see if Coruscant is as bright as I expected." She whispered as the cold closed around her. ************ Obi-Wan had searched the kitchens. He had searched the recreation rooms. He'd searched the reception and the halls and even the courtyard again in the hope of meeting up with Jemmiah, almost expecting to see her sitting on the steps polishing boots just as she had been the day before. The feeling of time slipping away from him was chilling indeed and he couldn't say for certain why this impression was plaguing him unless the force was trying to prompt him to act in some way. But how could you act against something you couldn't see? The only thing that the padawan did know was that Jemmiah seemed to completely have disappeared. He recalled the sparkling, shining eyes that gleamed like pale opals, the warm tawny hair and the elfin chin. He wasn't like Qui-Gon. There was just so much to learn about the force. His master had many, many years of experience in difficult decisions behind him whilst he was the padawan. The learner. The apprentice just starting out with already many, many mistakes to his name. Yet there was one advantage that he did have over Qui-Gon: he knew Jemmiah whilst his master did not. If anyone on this planet had a way of discovering her whereabouts it would be him. Around him the force eddied and flowed, through him and part of him and a part of all the people who inhabited the brothel. What surprised him was the sheer volume of discontent that the force was revealing, the unrest and upset amongst Merdan's subordinates and the escalation of fear in the women bound to serve here. He touched the various strains of emotion; eyes closed with concentration, tying to single out one of those threads in particular. It was a difficult task to sift through the degrees of misery, the pain, the pleasure…in search of one individual who for some inexplicable reason had come to mean a lot to Obi-Wan is such an incredibly short time. He had a bond with his master but that was to be expected. That bond, damaged as it had been after Melida-Daan, continued to grow and strengthen daily. But should he be able to sense another non-jedi the way that he could with his master? It had surprised him how strong his feelings had been and they had surprised Qui-Gon, too… There. She was safe! His first reaction was one of delighted relief, followed instantly by concern. From the little he had managed to gather she was cold, frightened and alone. Above all it seemed to be the latter that overridingly bothered her. Jemmiah was most certainly alive but as far as he could tell she was far from well and certainly not happy. Just as suddenly as he had picked up on her, the feeling disappeared, leaving Obi-Wan feeling just as isolated as Jemmiah had been. Where did he look now? *********** For the next seven hours Nadine likewise searched for the Corellian girl but every time she asked amongst the other women she drew a blank. Rusa had been complaining that there had been nobody to replace her in the kitchens, especially since Beralina was no longer there. It seemed like a heartless statement on the surface but Nadine considered herself a master at reading between the lines and the true nature of Rusa's concern was plain to see. Like Nadine, Rusa knew that the reason behind any disappearances on Nargotria had very sinister undertones and she too was worried that Jemmiah had followed in her friend Beralina's footsteps straight over Kilmartra's sheer drop. Still no word from Merdan had got back to them, which Nadine thought was extremely odd indeed. In cases such as Beralina's they had been informed immediately that the woman would not be helping them in the kitchens again, or anywhere else for that matter. The delay in telling of Jemmiah's fate gave Nadine reason to hope, but as time wore on she perversely found that hope dwindling. Other than continuing with her inquiries what else could she do? The Jedi. The tall master that went by the name of Jinn. He would surely help to seek the girl out or at least find out what had happened to her. Nadine swallowed, not wanting to think of the girl as hurt or worse still… To be so near to freedom and then to have it snatched away at the squeeze of a trigger was more than Nadine could bear. If it were too late for Jemmiah, Nadine hoped that Jedi Master Jinn would at least attempt to bring her memory some justice. It was more than most people had ever gotten here. "Be safe, little one." Nadine quoted an old Corellian proverb. "And be ye not safe, sleep well." It was only when Suzette appeared on the steps of the kitchen that she broke from her silent prayer, both women giving the other a brief nod of recognition. "Any news?" Nadine asked gruffly. "Yes." Suzette said the word so quietly that Nadine felt her chest begin to compact with grief, preparing for the very worst news imaginable. "What then?" she asked in a low voice. "Two things. Keleskladt's dead. So are the two other idiots Dawes and Birchil, rot their black hearts." "Good." Spat Nadine. "If my kid's dead there's going to be a lot of blood to pay for." "She's NOT dead." Suzette wet her lips anxiously. "But you're not going to like it." Nadine felt her body drain itself of blood, her legs feeling limp and unable to hold herself upright any longer. She grabbed at the wooden table and then slowly seated herself upon the bench, indicating that Suzette should go on with her tale no matter how much she wouldn't care for what she heard. "Continue." Nadine composed her face as best she could. "Seems that Keleskladt's demise was down to your Jemmy. She overheard him plotting to take over this dump and overthrow Merdan." "Pah!" Nadine replied scornfully. "Many have tried and nobody has succeeded. I'll believe it when I see it." "Looks like she told Merdan what she heard and he had Keleskladt removed." A small, triumphant grin broke out on Suzette's face. "Good riddance to the scum." "What about Jemmy?" Nadine hardly breathed. "Merdan had her clasped in restraints and threw her in the wine cellar. He knows, Nadie. He knows she is ill…he's just trying to prove it. You know how it was for Beralina. A few days deprived of light and water and it was the end of her. Merdan's not stupid…" "Then it's up to us to be more clever than he is." Nadine felt her resolve come back to her in a flourish. "We've got to get her out of there." "We can't!" Suzette hissed in anguish. "Where is she supposed to go? And what happens when Merdan opens up the cellar and discovers she's not there? Are we going to say the rats kidnapped her? People don't just vanish into thin air, not even on Nargotria." "It takes a lot to overcome Merdan," acknowledged Nadine slowly as she visualized the coldly handsome face of the man, "but it takes just as much to overcome me when my mind is set. And it IS set, Suzie. I'm getting that girl off this planet if it's the last thing that I do." *********** Vernice had returned from her foray in the speeder bay looking grim faced and pale, thinking thoughts she would not normally dwell on as a matter of course, above all feeling glad that her padawan was not here to face the dangers of Nargotria in the same way that Obi-Wan was. For all Qui-Gon's praiseworthy words of not wanting to leave the boy behind she couldn't help but feel that if he had any compassion or sense for the young apprentice he would have reconsidered his eagerness to pull the boy after him on such a dangerous mission. It was coming to something, Vernice thought with a bitter inward laugh, when you were glad that your own padawan was too badly hurt to accompany you on a quest. Having said that Vernice knew without a shadow of doubt that had Tanni been with her when they picked her up he would not have been allowed to survive. Witnesses were untidy loose ends. She looked down at her bloody hand and the splashes of deep red brown that flecked her blue outfit. It was going to be difficult to get that stain out of her dress or to explain it away in a hurry, Vernice groaned as she hurried towards the kitchens to soak as many of the tale tell signs from her garment as she could. The guard had taken her completely by surprise: a stupid lapse in concentration that very nearly had cost her head. Like Merdan she couldn't have afforded witnesses either but her own failed attempt to mind wipe the man had been botched in a spectacular fashion when she had force-swiped the blaster from his hand and set the thing off, the shot ricocheting round the walls until it had struck him squarely in the back. Well, he won't be speaking now, Vernice bit her lip. But that was not what I had anticipated. I won't shed any tears for him but still…it turned out very badly. They would eventually search for the man and, she supposed resignedly, they would also eventually find him sitting straddled on a swoop with a tarpaulin over his body. Depending on how important he was they might not find him until the smell in the underground bunker alerted then to the fact there was something other than the scent of engines and fuel in the air… Vernice wasn't particularly superstitious but even she shivered as she made her way down the steps to the kitchens and the warm smell of freshly baked loaves began to permeate the room. What happened back there, if it was an omen, was certainly one of ill luck. She pushed upon the door and walked the few steps down to the tiled floor surface, wondering if Jemmiah had managed to find any evidence for her regarding Inga Calton. There was no way she should have agreed to it but the girl seemed determined to help even though she had decided not to come back with them. Her eyes briefly met those of the two women sat on the benches before hurrying over to the large trough-like sink. "Had an accident, have we?" Suzette frowned. "You could say that." Vernice agreed as she ran her hand under the waterspout, adjusting the setting so that the water would sweep away the blood from her skin. "An extremely unfortunate one." "I don't know of any other kind." Suzette remarked with a lop-sided smile. All the time she scrubbed at her hands and fingers Vernice could feel Nadine's eyes boring into the back of her skull. There was something about Nadine that she couldn't put her finger on. In her brief conversations with Jemmiah the Corellian girl had described the woman as blunt, truthful and a "little bit witchy…" and right now the master could tell exactly what the girl meant. The feeling of those eyes on her skin made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. "Maybe you ought to change out of that dress," Nadine stated in her deep voice, "because we wouldn't want the mark to dry in now, would we Master Jedi?" Vernice spun around in astonishment, battling to keep the surprise off her face. "Your Master Jinn told me." She continued airily. "The thing is, how do we get you back to Coruscant without being noticed, hmm?" "Inspiration is my specialty." Vernice raised an eyebrow. "It had better be, or you are going to get found out." She stabbed a finger at her dress. "Parade around in that and people are going to ask questions." "I already have been found out." Vernice sighed and dropped her head a fraction. "The blood does not belong to me. I managed to get into a scrap with a guard. He's currently doing an impression of a speeder bike down in the bunker." "Kriff!" Nadine let her eyes narrow. "That wasn't terribly clever, was it?" "Let me let you into a little secret," Vernice dried her hand on a nearby towel and walked over to the twosome. "You shouldn't believe everything you hear. Contrary to popular belief Jedi make mistakes, too." "So I see." Nadine glanced uncertainly at Suzette. "You do realize that any unauthorized deaths on this place lead to major investigations, don't you?" "Might not be so difficult to explain away." Vernice offered a small shrug as she seated herself on the edge of the bench. "I left no marks on him or anything that could give me away. I used the force to lift him into the back of the speeder and to lift the tarpaulin." "The holocams…" Suzette began. "I disabled them." The quick answer came back. "And what is more I intend to disable as many as I can before we leave. The general confusion should allow myself and my three companions to escape…" she looked guiltily at both of them. "I would take you all if I could but…" "We know." replied Suzette. "It's not possible. Merdan might get a little bit suspicious if he realized that we were all missing. But you're planning on taking Jemmiah with you, is that not right?" Vernice sponged at the mark on her dress, trying to lessen the stain with water. "If she will let me, yes. Qui-Gon's agreed in principle although he seemed unconvinced." "Then let's just say that I managed to convince him." Nadine interrupted sharply. "Much good it will do, seeing as how Jemmiah's been locked up in that kriffing wine cellar." "What?" exclaimed Vernice, not understanding the grimness in Nadine's voice. "But why?" "She got caught snooping around in Merdan's office. Did you know about that at all?" Suzette asked her with a trace of accusation filtering through her words. "She won't see the light of day for over forty hours and by then it will be too late." "I don't understand." Vernice ignored Suzette's deliberate barb. "Why is this? And why the cellar?" Drumming her fingers noisily on the table Nadine treated the jedi to a world-weary look, one that just about summed up over eight years of imprisonment and inhumanity. It was only truly at that moment Vernice realized exactly what these people had to go through on a day to day basis, the difficulties and the suffering that had forced the women to band together in time of need. They had nobody else to turn to except for themselves. What Vernice could read on Nadine's face was the natural pain of someone who had lost many, many friends over the years and whose tough mask cracked just enough to show her concern that she might lose a substitute daughter. Jemmiah had talked affectionately about the older Corellian and it was clear from her anxiety Nadine's reciprocated that devotion. "Maybe you will let me tell you something." Nadine shot a cautious look at the door, making sure there was nobody in earshot. "That cellar is dark. Really dark. Without a torch or a glow stick you are as good as blind. There are big rat like creatures in there that like nothing better than to have a nibble at you if they think they can get away with it. Above all else it is freezing cold down there. By the time Merdan gets round to dragging her back out she will probably hope he just blows her head off. He's trying to wear away any resistance. He's also trying to see if she's got this illness…you knew about it?" she asked Vernice curiously. The master nodded. "Jemmiah told me about it. A muscle wasting disease." "Like a consumption. That's literally what it is: the body consumes itself. I've seen it happen to my friends. I've also seen what Merdan did to those friends as a result. Poor kid probably caught it from Beralina, the girl who used to help out Rusa in the kitchens. She got sick too. Knowing my luck I've probably kriffing got it." Nadine laughed ironically. "I don't care any more. I want that girl safe and off this planet. Take her back to Coruscant because all her folks are dead on Corellia, so she told me. I want you to promise me that you and your master 'buddy' will take care of her." "I think I can promise that much." Vernice smiled slowly. "Qui-Gon likes nothing better than to champion causes where he sees fit." Nadine sat back, satisfied. "Now all we have to do is get her out of here. So," she stared directly at Vernice, "what are YOU going to do about it?" ************* The sky outside was bright and blue, the kind of day that would make any normal being glad to be alive. Merdan however had other things on his mind. Several things as it happened, and none of them good. Keleskladt wasn't going to be missed but it did mean that Merdan would have to promote one of the other guards to fill that position of authority. The real problem was that he didn't exactly have much in the way of decent material to work from. What he commanded were ex-cons, riffraff and wannabe soldiers who hadn't made the grade, seeking a little solace and comfort in the arms of as many women as possible. That was fine up to a point. The problem was that Merdan had no idea who was loyal to him and who Keleskladt had bought. With the man dead Rufus hoped that any opposition to him might just melt away but he knew that wasn't especially likely. There were always plenty of would-be underworld leaders trying their luck, and his was a lucrative position to fill. He had money, although he was always on the look out for more. No, that was not the problem: all his troubles were stemming from the notion of having to watch his back like a hawk incase he should end up with a very large knife between his shoulder blades. Still, Keleskladt hadn't found the key to the armory and Merdan wasn't about to give that up in a hurry. Somehow he still expected some kind of attempted coup on Nargotria. This was going to make for an interesting twenty four hours, if that. Then there was the Corellian girl. Merdan was surprised to confess a reluctance to do away with her, perhaps because of her unexpected show of loyalty or the dignified manner she had conducted herself over the Levinstowe affair. Maybe it was because he still felt some residual feelings for her dead mother and the promise he had made the woman some five years ago. It was hardly a binding promise when one party was deceased but Merdan always tried to stick to his own rules where possible. Levinstowe's murder of the girl's mother still rankled with him even after three years. Had he not had a desperate need of Levinstowe's money and expertise at the time the man would have long gone the way of so many others before and since… It seemed a pity to kill the girl, but if he had to order it he would do it. His most intriguing problem was 'Brad Logan' and his nephew 'Jacen'. The man seemed a little too good to be true right from the word go. Most people would have happily accepted the story Mr. Logan had provided, after all it was a seedy world out there - he should know it better than anyone. Merdan though never took anything solely based on trust. Has past was littered like a battlefield of failed and wrecked business associations where the trust had swiftly evaporated into nothingness. Something about the man, his demeanor and his bearing, the soft way in which he spoke and the way he moved suggested to Rufus that Logan's story deserved to be checked out once again. This time he dug a little deeper and the results were very interesting to see. It appeared that Brad Logan did not exist, however it seemed that a certain Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn of Coruscant did. Jacen Logan was an equally fictitious person, no doubt the master's apprentice and lackey. Why would a jedi master come to Nargotria? It was conceivable that he might want to visit without the knowledge of the other jedi. Not all jedi were even-tempered do-gooders: he had heard of a few in the past that quickly laid that rumor to rest. The contact they had pulled in, a Mister Gray Elcron posing as Walbert Maxall, late of Coruscant, had revealed just shortly before his sudden and unfortunate death that he supposed the jedi were doing exactly that: trying to escape the rigors of the capital without anyone knowing. It was perfectly reasonable. But Merdan's fingers pricked like crazy at the thought of two jedi on the premises. He didn't like jedi at all. Then there was the matter of the money. This Master Jinn quite clearly had an account - verified by his own people - which contained as much money as his initial details had stipulated. Why and how would a jedi get that kind of money to spend? Were jedi supposed to have money? Merdan didn't think so. The only obvious conclusion he could draw was that for whatever reason the jedi was snooping around aided by someone with a LOT of money and that probably meant the senate, the Chancellor and in turn a lot of trouble for him… Why would the Chancellor get involved after all this amount of time? He could have had the place shut down whenever he pleased. The envoy. The jedi had possibly been sent to discover what had happened to the envoy lady Inga Calton. The only thing that Merdan remained unsure about was whether or not the Chancellor would stir himself to act against this organization or continue to turn a blind eye to it. Now that Nargotria had asked to join the Republic Merdan was not prepared to take any chances… Still, the thought of all that money was very tempting. If he could get the money from the jedi master before he had him killed that would make all the difficulties and turmoil well and truly compensated for. He still wasn't a hundred percent certain of the Jedi's game plan…maybe he should sit tight until the man revealed his hand. People like Levinstowe and Keleskladt made rash mistakes by rushing in where fools dared, but not him. If he played his cards right he might still come out of this the ultimate winner and so for the moment Rufus was content to bide his time and watch what the jedi did. He would soon see. |
| As Long As There Is Hope: Part Twelve By Jemmiah |