"What do you mean the Jedi investigators dispatched didn't use one of your refits?" The icy cold, tension laden question had been asked by a man whose incredibly harsh bone structure and hair that was prematurely graying as fast as it was thinning made him resemble a fresh cadaver despite his being only thirty years of age.
"Jedi Master Sifo-Dyas is as much a surveillance expert as he is an authority on how terrorist and organized crime organizations operate. He's an absolutely brilliant and utterly relentless investigator.
Which is why he's Dooku's right hand and hunting hound. Meanwhile, Dooku is an operator who has connections and is owed serious favors from one end of the galaxy to the other.
I warned you Wilhuff that deleting the camera footage would only work if no witnesses brought the event in question up for scrutiny, but you insisted on believing no one would notice a bird-woman with an ignited lightsaber leaping into the night from a Coruscanti high-rise.
Just before the crazed Jedi's inexplicable sabotage of the building's power-grid caused great arcs of electricity to chase her into the night seconds before the top floors of the building went up in flames.
I released a worm to delete holonet posts with keywords related to the incident, but Sifo-Dyas or one of the other Jedi slicers must have seen and copied such a post first. Wish in one hand, shit in the other, see which gets full first."
The tall executive explained flatly. Running a hand through his dark, curly hair as he watched his "partner" pace angrily about his office.
"A great deal of effort went into making sure literally no other craft lacking a tracking beacon would be available to the Jedi. At least none appropriate for a journey to the Outer Rim and back. Would you care to explain what went wrong, Raith?" Wilhuff Tarkin coldly inquired.
"You're forgetting a great many of the older Jedi Masters retain their own courier-ships. A tradition the Order seems to be in the process of reviving ever since their Shadows discovered the Scimitar on Naboo.
I may have had the connections and resources to avoid any real consequences for my involvement with that project, but the Jedi do know my company built the custom infiltrator they were able to tie to that would-be assassin.
The days of the Jedi Order trusting Santhe/Sienar Technologies or any of it's affiliates near their assets are at an end.
Furthermore, the Jedi are now aware the offices of the Judicial Branch leak like a sieve because of Nebula Front's activities.
You've noticed they no longer plan anything cooperative with the Judicials ahead of time whenever they can help it? That's a consequence of the terrorists assassinating all those Trade Federation delegates on Eriadu. The debacle which proved the final nail in Valorum's coffin.
Well, the Jedi learn from their mistakes like everyone else, Wilhuff. I'm not going to be surprised if they bring in some slicers from the Mid or Outer Rim to retool the Temple's electronic security in the near future" Raith lectured in an irritated tone.
His tone clearly conveying just how offended he was by Tarkin's attempt to make the obvious point of potential failure in their scheme his fault.
"Well? What do you suggest, then? I'm not ready to simply give up on an opportunity of this magnitude. If you have all the answers, you should be able to dazzle me with your brilliant plan!" This last was delivered by the old-money military man from Eriadu with a brooding anger tinged subtly with desperation.
Raith's smile was the picture of self-satisfaction, as he explained.
"I was unable to get a tracking beacon placed upon Master Dooku's personal yacht, but a short range listening device capable of uploading it's recordings as soon as that pair returned to Coruscant fell within my means.
I have the transcript of the conversation between him, a Master Dark Woman, and a Padawan named Skywalker. During the conversation, Dooku mentions the Jedi Master assigned to the investigation would need a familiarity with the Gardaji Rift. Which is in the Gardaji Sector, obviously.
I know you've got more ships at your disposal than the ragtag force of ex-Trade Federation security vessels you want me to lead, so just how badly do you want this? There aren't exactly a huge number of systems in the Rift which might have habitable worlds" Raith replied with the smug look of a man who plans for all eventualities.
"I'll contact you when I have what we need. You would do well not to disappoint me again, Sienar." Wilhuff's voice was a threatening growl as he glared at the polished CEO. Who was making a point of seeming to be unaffected by his co-conspirator's anger.
"As you say then, Wilhuff" Raith replied in an easy, conciliatory tone. Outwardly, he was a picture of calm self-possession, but inside just one mass of overactive nerves as he considered just how dangerous an adversary the man opposite him could be.
"Times, they are a changing, and I must change with them." The thought was a bleak one, so the genius pushed it from his mind as he deactivated the holo-schematic featuring one of his latest designs where it appeared in the middle of the table at his right elbow.
He'd only brought the schematic up to give him something to look at besides a fuming Tarkin, because the Expeditionary Battle Planetoid was nothing but a boondoggle-in-the-making without significant advances in hyper-matter technology he didn't anticipate being made in the near future.
Still, the designer couldn't help noticing his "partner's" eyes kept drifting back to the holo-schematic as a small smile he found more unsettling than reason provided excuse for touched the other man's harsh features.
It was only with the greatest effort he suppressed a shiver that Tarkin would have taken for a sign of weakness.
...
29.1 BBY, Zonama Sekot
I gritted my teeth as it grew more difficult to remain the channel for the Force required to enhance my strength so I could successfully complete my two hundredth and fiftieth push-up.
Master Dark Woman didn't seem to be paying attention to my efforts, but the downward telekinetic pressure she was exerting on my legs and core never wavered as I counted off.
"Two hundred twenty-four, two hundred twenty-five, two hundred twenty-si-" I gasped, as my count was interrupted by a sudden and unexpected doubling of the downward pressure just as my arms had begun to lower me back down from my highest point.
I regained control and turned the downward push into part of my push-up as soon as I could, then begin fighting my way back upward as I found breath enough to continue the count. It had been three days since she'd first tried this, and this time I hadn't ended up flat on my belly.
"Good, you learned after last time that giving way before my sudden increase in pressure would give you the time required to rally and begin pushing back.
Sometimes, we must take a few steps backward in order to give ourselves room for the run-up to a successful leap forwards, Anakin. This is a principle applicable to many things in life.
Your power and talent won't always permit you the direct approach you so often employ, and said approach can become a channel to genuine aggression and therefore the Dark Side, besides" Dark Woman lectured in a calm, perfectly unruffled voice.
I was still fighting my way through the count-off and devoting all my attention to watching out for a new surprise that it would be just like my Master to pull, so couldn't find the breath to reply.
When I finally announced push-up two hundred and fifty, she gave the command to release. Announcing the training segment was over, so I was therefore safe from surprise attacks.
I winced at the throbbing pain in my arms and pectoral region, but couldn't deny the Jedi Master's brutal training methods were paying off as I considered the beginning of real muscle definition in my arms, and the ease with which I moved.
Normally, at least, but right now I just wanted to let the sonic shower in the refresher beat on my viciously aching muscles. The tough old woman was smirking at my discomfort as I staggered into the refresher.
Prompting me to focus on my breathing as I let the irritation that smirk engendered in me flow through and out of me. It wasn't easy, but I was determined to gain the kind of self-control my teacher had. I knew I was going to need it to resist bisecting certain servants of a certain villain without apparent legal cause in future, after all.
While the sonic shower's focused waves drummed in their near-silent way against every part of my aching frame while I slowly turned fill circles beneath it, I considered my Master and her methods in more detail.
It wasn't hard to see why a traumatized child like Aurra Sing had gone rotten after exposure to Dark Woman's initial training.
The Jedi Master was a savage anachronism by the standards of her contemporaries in the Order. Prioritizing the ability of each of her students to survive and thrive even amidst great adversity over civility and their regard for her.
Dark Woman only cared about shaping me into the best Jedi I could possibly be. If that shaping involved a great deal of pounding, chipping, grinding and subsequent polishing, that was quite all right with her.
My constantly exhausted and forever aching body wouldn't have minded throttling her, but I loved the savage savant regardless. I didn't need a smiling older brother figure trying to muddle his way through training his first Padawan simply by trying to replicate everything his own Master had done to and for him.
No, what I needed was someone who knew exactly how to draw out and refine my talents to their best effect. Someone who knew the pain the metal experienced in the fire of the crucible would be forgotten as soon as the bright and tempered blade was polished and drawn forth for the first time.
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