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Old 06-25-2008, 01:46 PM   #1
Lord Foley
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A quick note: I don't intend this to be viewed as a KotOR III. It's not really told in a fashion that makes it feel like a third installment.
Edit- I also didn't bother to go through and put in italics where I had them before, but I don't think it will confuse you.

Eight years have passed since the Jedi Civil War ended in the skies above Lehon. The galaxy has all but forgotten the calamities that were, as the instability of the present overwhelms it. With the Jedi gone and more worlds leaving the Republic than ever before, it seems hope of a galactic democracy has all but died. The Republic's fall is inevitable, and soon the galaxy will return to the chaotic state it once was.

The Force, however, is not so straightforward. There is no obvious collapse, only a grand emptiness where once there were thousands of Jedi. Even the Sith have vanished, leaving the secrets of the Force more mysterious than ever.

A galaxy cannot remain in such a state for long. Soon, everything will turn for the collapse into chaos or the rise into stability again. For now, the only sign that the Jedi have survived is a blindingly powerful presence being followed by one who escaped the terrors of the numerous wars the galaxy has experienced...

-Star Wars: Legends-

The Force was a single thing, the manifestation of life, encompassing all things. When viewed from the outside, by an observer such as Caale Bon, it was a complex web of intricacies. Nothing was clear these days. He could feel the flow of thoughts around him, the basic hum of life in the few dozen sentients near him, but it was not them that had him so fixated on the Force recently. It was that blinding light, the glare of staring straight ahead with the bright midday sun right in his peripheral vision, but he couldn't look at it. He could see it, but every time he turned, it was just beyond his vision. This was the presence he felt in the Force.

The Force reflected all things, big and small, and not just the life forms that inhabited the countless planets of the galaxy. Caale could feel events in the Force as well, echoing across the entire galaxy. This presence was a living thing, however. He could feel it- it had the same aura of consciousness about it, the same palpable thoughts swirling within it. But it was the power, the sheer intensity of one being having so much focus and so much energy, that made it so impossibly huge. This could not have been anything less than the most powerful essence Caale had ever felt. As huge as it was, he couldn't find it. When moved toward it, he was never closer. There was no finding this phantom- not without some sort of hint or knowledge of where to look.

That brought Caale Bon to Obroa-skai. For the most part, people left this world alone, despite its location between the Borderland Regions and the Inner Rim. It was inhabited, but hardly backwater, and it was certainly well maintained enough for it to be independent of the Republic, as it had recently chosen to be. The library here in the capital also served as a public database, giving users as much knowledge about the Obroa system's history and current events as was asked of it.

The walls were the color of sandstone and as smooth as marble. They ran high and then arched at the top, where segmented glass windows let morning light shine down on everyone in the library. The library itself, however, was relatively small- there was a limited number of books, as more and more of them were uploaded to databases. The room was mostly computer terminals now, all with chairs so comfortable that Caale thought he might fall asleep in his. He gave the chairs too much credit though- he was too fixated on his terminal to even doze for a second.

He tapped his query into the silver keys and awaited his readout on the screen. It was awkward to type anything on these computers- most terminals on Coruscant had oversized buttons to allow the larger species easier access to technology. He supposed no one expected visitors anymore.

Caale acquired numerous articles published from as far back as a hundred years before Exar Kun's war- yet none of them suggested what he suspected they might. These were all news reports on galactic events. They reported grand pronouncements the Jedi Council had made, the war against the Mandalorians, Revan's return- even the fairly recent destruction of Malachor V, which hinted at Jedi involvement, though no one was sure; Caale suspected no one really cared anymore. There was nothing about Jedi activity on Obroa-skai- not a single time had Jedi set foot on this soil and been accounted for.

He leaned back in his chair, closed his eyes and freed himself from the physical world. Not once had Jedi been to Obroa-skai. What did that mean? How could a presence so strong in the Force be here, when no Jedi had even visited? The Force ran strongly in bloodlines; the Council had known this. Could a random Force sensitive of this magnitude happen by chance? Perhaps worse was the thought that a powerful Force user had escaped to the planet unnoticed- But then why allow your presence to sensed from across space? Caale had felt the intensity from Kuat, his previous haunt- surely every other Force sensitive in the galaxy could feel its presence. They can't be hiding. But why would they be calling out? The obvious answer occurred to him: Because people would come. He had no idea what he was looking for or where it was, or even why he was searching. He had come because never in his thirty-seven years had he felt such a powerful being in the Force.

Then it was a trap? It was no trap. There was no malevolence, no malicious intent. The Jedi had all but disappeared, and Caale suspected the Sith were responsible, but this was not one of their tricks- and if they had grown powerful enough to deceive him and lure him in from across the galaxy, than Caale was sure that there was nothing he could do to stop such a menace. No, he would trust this was no Sith trap.

"Everything I tell you is a lie. Every question I ask you is a trick. You will find no truth in me."
―Vergere to Jacen Solo

Last edited by Lord Foley; 06-26-2008 at 12:28 PM.
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Old 06-25-2008, 01:53 PM   #2
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loved this start
your descriptions are great.

keep it up!

"If God is a DJ, then life is a dance floor, love is the rhythm and you are the music."

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Old 06-25-2008, 11:17 PM   #3
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Although I'm writing the story in chapters, I'm not uploading them in them, for one because it's a lot to read at once on a computer screen, and two because it gives me cushion time. This is still chapter one.

“-Jedi.” Reality was back. Caale was sitting in his overly comfortable chair in the library, alert and ready for whoever was talking about Jedi. But beyond his own initial alarm, he sensed no ill intent in the Force- no one planing to harm him, no one aware of his secret. He looked behind him to the voice.

It was a local, leaning against the counter conversing with the male librarian on the other side. And they were talking about Jedi?

“Not anymore, they aren't,” replied the librarian to whatever had been said. “And without them, the Republic really doesn't mean much. They can't even hold down the Senate without the Jedi. Did you hear what's happened now?”

“About Rum?” asked the local.

“And his rigging the elections,” the other finished. “Yeah. Seems good ol' Jake Rum was a lying scumbag after all. They've accused him of treason and suspended his title as Chancellor.”

“There isn't much hope for his case, either. Most folks just assume he's a liar and won't listen to a word he says in his own defense. The Senate is already moving to elect a replacement for him.” He shook his head.

“You think he's innocent then?”

“Your guess is as good as mine. But as it is, no one even cares. The trial will probably be a mockery. I don't have high hopes for the Republic's legal system at this point.”

“It's no wonder that every world worth it's weight in nerf meat left that club to die. It's not what it used to be. I just hope it goes down nice and quietly.”

“Well, like I said, without the Jedi, they won't be able to do much other than go down quietly. Did you hear the Senate is now blaming the Jedi for all its past problems? Pretty pathetic, if you ask me.”

Caale sighed inwardly. That last part struck a certain heart string of his- back when he had been with the Order, the Jedi slaved night and day all across the galaxy to help the Republic maintain peace and stability- and now the Senate blamed them for the Republic's soon-to-be-official collapse? Caale had abandoned the Jedi way when he saw what it led to in the Jedi Civil War, but he hardly thought of it as a source of problems for the Republic. Ungrateful, the whole lot.

Caale rose, moving towards the exit and back on the main street of the city, but stopped short. Something was behind him, a soft presence, like hearing muffled footsteps at the other end of the hallway. He turned from the doors and looked back at what had been his seat. He saw nothing but the conversation between the locals, but he felt something more. He moved swiftly but not urgently back to stand by his seat. There were whispers here; a draft seemed to move through the building, but there was no breeze. He an echo of a man, sitting next to where he had, casually using the public database, exactly as he had. But it was the impression that mattered- the fact that something so ordinary left echoes in the Force that could be heard when the mind was silent. Caale stepped to the other terminal and sat.

He was not entirely sure what he was doing, but it came to him as he stared at the monitor. What had the man been doing? Slowly, Caale put his hands on the terminal and entered a single query: the terminal's use history.

The results slowly appeared on screen. Text, much of it, and images to go along, began scrolling in front of him. He saw Dantooine, Katarr, Coruscant, Onderon... All files were on planetary information, but the final search result interested Caale the most. It was one he himself had made not ten minutes earlier.

Caale was silent. He had been right, then, for this could not be coincidence. He was not the only one who had felt the presence so strongly in the Force, and he was not the only one on Obroa-skai searching for it. It was curious what he noticed next- every world about which whoever this was inquired was known for very involved Jedi activity over the years past. But why care what Obroa-skai has to say on that matter? The user had unfortunate luck- none of the data entries on the planets had mentioned anything about the Jedi activity there, and Caale knew from experience that there was no reported Jedi on Obroa-skai.

There was something else. Caale closed his eyes and reached out to the room, but he felt nothing beyond the faintness of this computer user's presence. The fact that he left an impression on the room at all was worrisome. The computer user had been there not a day earlier- probably the same morning. For a brief moment, Caale wondered if this same man was the source of the powerful presence he felt all along, but no, he would have felt it if he was this close behind one so powerful. It was that the faint echo was almost deliberately hidden that disturbed him. Yes, there was the heart of it: It emanated withdrawal and secrecy, and at their core both are truly fear. Whoever was here wished to avoid detection more than Caale himself.

This all meant very little, Caale decided, since he had learned nothing besides there was another Force user here on Obroa-skai and that had supposedly never happened before. He left the library, wondering exactly where he was going to go next.

"Everything I tell you is a lie. Every question I ask you is a trick. You will find no truth in me."
―Vergere to Jacen Solo

Last edited by Lord Foley; 06-26-2008 at 10:46 AM.
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Old 06-26-2008, 12:27 PM   #4
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Jake Rum's desk was empty. Of course, it had all the ornaments that Rum had put there himself- the picture of himself with his family, the trophy he had won as a child in a boloball tournament, a small wooden statue an old friend had carved him that was just a little too surreal for Rum's tastes- but none of the flimsi sheets, none of the holorecordings waiting to be played and analyzed, and what it lacked most of all, from Rum's view, was purposefully small, platinum nameplate that read Jake Rum, Supreme Chancellor of the Galactic Republic. Quite a few people were overjoyed that it was no longer there.

Jake was surprised they had allowed him to stay in his office at all- they had suspended his title and powers, of course, and he suspected he had little chance of earning them back, even if he was found innocent- but the fact that he was actually permitted in the Senate building was astounding to him. He would have thought they would have arrested him outright and locked him up, to ensure he would not try to flee. But where would he go anyway? He had nothing left beyond his political career. He had never married; the picture on his desk- a classical two-dimensional picture, not a holoimage- was of his parents and siblings, all of whom were deceased or off-planet. Jake Rum would not run from his trial. He would take the stand in the same manner he had faced every challenge the Republic had thrown at him, with confidence and pride- though the Republic had never thrown a challenge at him that hit him so personally.

It was not just the Senators. He had lost the trust of the entire population of Coruscant, and the news had probably already spread across the entire galaxy: Chancellor Jake Rum Suspended from Office and on Trial for High Treason. That was what he saw on every holovid screen on this planet, at least.

Rum rose from his chair and moved to the enormous transparisteel window that overlooked the most prestigious section of the entire city. He used to look out over the buildings with the confidence and sense of importance that this was that for which he struggled. He struggled for every being in the galaxy, certainly, but for these sentients, right next door, it was more personal. They could look at him on the street and their eyes would tell him, “You'd better take care of this galaxy, Jake Rum. My children are in it.” That was back when he was a hero, when they trusted him. Now he was scum of the worst kind- not the kind that made everyone cower in fear and wonder if this was their last day, as the Mandalorians and Revan and Malak had- the kind that lovely young couples discussed bitterly over their evening meals.

Rum's holovid screen was always running in his office now; he never switched it off, silently hoping that an important news broadcast would announce that this was all a mistake, and that Jake Rum was in fact the grand hero they had always believed him to be. That would be the best broadcast in a generation. But the 'important news broadcasts' usually said quite the opposite these days.

“Day five of the Rum investigation, and still more evidence pouring in against the Chancellor,” said a voice Rum could only describe as obnoxiously apathetic. There was not even personal anger in it- the man was plainly and calmly telling the galaxy that Jake Rum was a disgusting person. “Recent developments suggest that Rum has been manipulating the Senate as far back as two years before he was even elected to office. Investigators are saying that Rum's office has several unrecorded transfers of credits in amounts as large as three million apiece. Where all that money went, they would not disclose.”

The image changed to a Bith now, one wearing Coruscant Security Force insignia and a standard issue uniform. Rum noted he did not appear to be of any substantial rank on the force. Seems no one worth mentioning is going to talk to the public about my case. Fitting.

“As you are surely already aware,” the Bith began in his gurgling voice, “Official records have no recordings of many of the voting tallies from the past four elections- the first of which being when Rum entered office. Rum's office's seem to have only part of the tallies, though the figures that his offices possess match the figures shown to the public as the final vote. What happened to the remaining Senator's votes, we cannot say. We hypothesize that the Rum office either destroyed them or someone stopped them from being tallied to start with- a very disturbing idea indeed.”

Rum shook his head. Yes, it was quite disturbing that records failed to show how the elections went. He wondered now if someone lower down the chain from his own offices were setting him up. But who could have made transactions of that magnitude or discounted Senate votes? The idea of Rum being able to do it was disturbing, but for someone even less important it was impossible- making it twice as terrifying. Is the system that broken?

“Quite disturbing, Officer Tio,” replied the anchor, inset in the image of the Bith. “Now, have you found anything that could suggest someone other than Jake Rum could be responsible for tampering with the elections?”

That got Rum's attention fully back. He had not heard a report with that in it before.

“Well,” said the Bith, “I think it would truly be a breakthrough in the case if we did.” Rum's heart sank. “But as of now, absolutely everything we're finding points to Rum's offices, and everything at the offices goes through him. When Rum's title was suspended, he said rival Senators could be setting him up, but for that to happen, they would have had to fully infiltrate Rum to the core. We just find it impossible to believe, and the evidence has done nothing but reinforce our confidence. Rum is the man we're looking for.”

"Everything I tell you is a lie. Every question I ask you is a trick. You will find no truth in me."
―Vergere to Jacen Solo
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Old 06-27-2008, 12:13 PM   #5
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Rum's command made the holovid screen go black. So that was it then. He had just been publicly condemned. Absolutely everything we're finding points to Rum's offices. Jake collapsed into his chair. There was not much time left, then. Soon he would be serving a life sentence, wondering how he had gone wrong, how everything could have degenerated so terribly after everything he had done for the Republic.

He had wanted to follow the case closely, as to know his own fate. But now there was no need. He was a dead man. Rum had even acquired a copy of a local political holozine, but now it just sat on his desk. What could it possibly say? In silent desperation, he opened it to the center- where the biggest articles always were- and looked straight at what he hoped would be a report shining a light at the end of this terribly dark tunnel.

Instead, he saw a sarlacc. Senate Announces Plans to Elect a New Supreme Chancellor Promptly. Chancellors had been suspended from office a few times in galactic history, but never had a replacement been elected before the old was convicted or released. Of all the arrogance!

Rum threw the holozine across the room and all but leaped from his chair. How could they do this? How could the Senate be so bold that they would assume him convicted before the trial even took place? No one would question the move; Rum was sure of that. No one would stand up and shout, “Wait! Jake Rum is only suspended from office! Isn't what the Senate's doing illegal?”

He looked out his window now, seeing a very different world than before. This was a world of ungratefulness and contempt. All these beings he had served to protect, and the repay him with treachery. Rum had been elected out of urgency in the middle of the Mandalorian Wars. The previous Chancellor had begun to condemn the Jedi for remaining idle and was beginning to voice irrational plans to remove them from Coruscant. Jake Rum had been the hero, then, the knight in shining armor who had arrived just in time to see a great Jedi hero named Revan lead countless others to aid in the fight against the Mandalorians. Rum had been the one who had saved the Republic, who had persevered and been rewarded with victory.

And who was it that had helped the Republic through the Jedi Civil War, when every other hero had betrayed them? It was Jake Rum, the Supreme Chancellor who would never quit, no matter how many mutinous sorcerers turned the Dark Side against him. Here he was now, nine years into his career, facing the collapse of the Republic.

That was it. He had finally actually thought it in full blown words: The Republic is going to collapse. It was such a simple thing, such an obvious thing, but always he had denied it. For the first time, Jake Rum was staring straight at the political decay that was his grand Republic.

I thought I could save it. I have, so many other times. And now, now that I'm powerless- now that it's not my republic anymore, I see what everyone has been whispering for so long: the Republic is truly dead. Did I let it die? Has it been dying every day I've ruled and I've just been too blind? Have I been the only thing between the galaxy and chaos for nine years? Or... or am I the reason the Republic is dead?

He was calmer now, but it was horrid calm. The calm of dying. Jake Rum may survive, he knew, but everything he had known would not. The end was in plain sight now, and finally Rum was powerless to stop it. He turned the holovid screen on again.

“-upcoming election, they are planning to send an envoy to the Onderon system, whose capital has recently fallen into disarray.” Rum had heard about that. The Onderon Civil War had appeared as a brief but ugly thing; in reality it was only the beginning of the end for the world. The queen, despite her victory over the rebelling General Vaklu, had been killed in a strike against the palace only seven months later, and riots had been ensuing just as long. Two years since, and still no one had laid claim to the throne of Onderon. Chaos was the planet's trademark now. Ironic how it so parallels the fall of the Republic itself.

But sending an envoy to Onderon? Onderon's military still believed it had some form of control over the planet and had officially seceded from the Republic six weeks prior to Rum's suspension. Relations had only been hostile since. They can't be serious. A real envoy would be shot down upon arrival, unless it arrived with heavy personal guard. And we all know what that would turn into.

The Senate planned to instill its own military on Onderon. Rum was sure they would use the pretense of peace to take control of the planet. When had the Senate turned so maniacal? Had they been plotting all this while he was in office? Was Rum the only voice of reason left in the Republic?

The sleek gray doors slid open. Rum turned to find himself facing three Coruscant Security Force officers. All had their blasters upholstered- he prayed it was for intimidation. Still, he wore the mask of composer that politics had taught him to keep handy. “Come to execute me now, then?”

None laughed. Rum had not expected them to. The middle officer stepped closer to the desk. “You're being escorted to a holding cell.”

Rum smirked but cried out inwardly. “Too dangerous to be allowed in public, am I?”

“You're on trial for treason. Traitors have a tendency to run,” he replied. “Not that you're convicted yet.”

Rum laughed. “Right, right. Fair trial and all.”

The officer stepped closer again. He removed a pair of stun cuffs from his belt. “Try not to wiggle in these, or it'll hurt. A lot.”

Rum was taken aback that the CSF found it necessary to implement restraints on someone like him. “Do you think that's entirely necessary?” he asked, allowing a touch of real anxiety to enter his voice.

“Standard procedure.”

Rum wished he had some clever comment to make, but the situation was no longer even remotely funny to him. He trudged off with his escort.

"Everything I tell you is a lie. Every question I ask you is a trick. You will find no truth in me."
―Vergere to Jacen Solo
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Old 06-28-2008, 09:40 AM   #6
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The sign read Skai Center for Research of the Paranormal. Caale had been to his share of planets before, and it was almost an assured thing that when a scientist studied the 'paranormal', he or she was referring to the Force. Such a crude way of describing it.

That was the intriguing thing, though. If the center was not entirely devoted to the study of the Force, then it certainly at least had a division on it. But why, exactly, would there be an institute for studying the Force on a planet that had never even had a Jedi tread on its soil- not that was recorded, anyway. Did the news of the Jedi and their exploits encourage such curiosity in a population that they would devote resources to studying the source of their mystical powers? Any serious scientist could easily have traveled off-planet to a world with plenty of Force sensitives and made a much credible study there. It would cost credits, but someone must have had the credits for such a center in the first place. Odd.

It had not been twenty minutes since Caale left the library when he began feeling the shadowy traces of another presence again. He had bought breakfast at a small local eatery on the main roadway through the city immediately before feeling as though someone else had been there: not necessarily the eatery, but right outside, just on the walkway. It was just a wisp of a presence but it was there; the same man who had been in the library came this way down the street towards... something in an awful hurry.

No, not a hurry, just a casual, leisurely walk on the outside- the anxiety and impatience of hurrying was internal, hidden from everyone. Almost. So Caale had followed it here, to the Skai Center for Research of the Paranormal.

Looks like I'm not the only one interested in the Center. Caale watched security officers pull up and climb out of their hovertrams to join the already substantial mob of policemen crawling over the building. One with a more decorated uniform was talking to a man whose hair was sleeked back and whose chin was held up in a fashion of self importance. Undoubtedly the owner of the center. Certainly not one of the scientists. Most of the actual work was typically done by men who earned small wages in unflattering clothes and unhealthy environments.

“I am unsure of exactly how he entered our facilities,” the owner said, seemingly indignant that anyone could break into his complex in the first place. Or perhaps it was hostility towards the officer himself for failing to have the case solved already. “It seems impossible that he could have picked the lock, but there were no signs of forced entry when I looked around. I doubt your patrol will find anything.”

Caale sighed. A typically conceited upper-class rat who was smarter and more skilled than everyone he had ever met. Wonderful. Caale was glad he was not on the Skai Police Force. He casually crossed the police line and looked in through the transparisteel. He saw nothing disturbed inside the main entrance: whoever had entered had been either extremely careful in sorting through everything or unconcerned with most of what he saw.

“Is it possible any disgruntled scientist could have used his own key to enter?” asked the officer.

“Not at all,” replied the owner. “I never trusted the scientists not to do something like this, so the building is opened every day by a member of my personal security staff. No one else has a key, besides me of course.”

“Have you talked to your security staff?”

“Now what would they want with our database? That sort of thing doesn't concern their ilk. Honestly, the idea is preposterous.”

Ripples of extreme self control poured off the officer. Caale smiled at how well the man was tolerating the owner's ridiculous conceit. Still, eavesdropping had been entirely unhelpful to him. He would have started to work out what had happened had he not felt the officer's attention suddenly shift to him.

“Excuse me sir!” he called. “Step away from the building!” The man was moving swiftly to Caale's side. “There's an investigation in progress.”

“Ah,” Caale said, as if this was subtle thing that had simply eluded him. “I see.”

“Sir, could you not see the police line?”

“Ah, yes, I could,” Caale replied, not bothering with the stupid act. He had always been fond of straight answers himself, and he liked to give what he sought. “I was curious about the nature of the break in.”

That seemed to strike the officer as astounding. In a good or bad way, it was hard to say- his silence was not very readable beyond shock. “Why?” he finally said. “Do you know something?”

“Not really,” Caale said, half lying. He corrected himself: “Not anything you'd believe or care to know.”

“I care to know a lot more than you might think.”

“Well, I don't think it will help you,” said Caale, “but I'm looking for someone, and I'm almost certain he came this way earlier. I think he might be the type of person to stage a robbery, but I'm not entirely sure.”

The officer frowned. “Sorry to tell you, but this wasn't a robbery. Somebody broke in and destroyed a bunch stuff, including information from the database, but they didn't take anything. Who's this guy you're looking for, just in case there are a few robberies later?”

Caale shook his head, ignoring the question. “You know, I think this crime suits his character as well. What was destroyed?”

“Sir, who is this man you're looking for?”

He caught it again: the wisp, the trail that this rogue was leaving in the Force. Yes, this was his doing, but he was off again, off towards-

Caale was suddenly very afraid, but he was aware the emotion he was feeling was not his own. The feeling was rushing into him from the Force, from the surrounding sentients, not necessarily near him, but somewhere in the city, he could feel it. Fear of death, of rape, of something horrible... But it was the fear of its imminence, not of it happening now.

“Are you okay, sir?”

The shadow was there too, the rogue who had been in the library and broken into the center. He was there, but he was not afraid; he was anxious. He had struck again, and the fear was only growing.

Caale took off on foot, stepping around the officer and dashing towards the distress he felt coming from the residential district. He had the shadow now.

"Everything I tell you is a lie. Every question I ask you is a trick. You will find no truth in me."
―Vergere to Jacen Solo
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