Chapter 56

Anakin hummed as he studied the branches of a berry bush. The Albingi Crisis was strange.

More so now that Hego Damask had entered the scene.

He wasn't sure to think of the Muun. Which was unusual, Anakin usually had a good read on people, or at least what they presented at the surface.

But the businessman was hard to read…very hard. He seemed pleasant enough and took great interest in the crisis. But why eluded Anakin. Was it some sense of benevolence and goodwill? Was he trying to cover up some relation he had to the crisis? Perhaps he believed there was a means to profit here?

Anakin wasn't sure.

"Magister?" Anakin spoke up in greeting as the muun entered the greenhouse, wearing a hazard suit, just as Anakin was.

The Muun nodded as he entered the greenhouse that had been retrofitted into an on-site laboratory. "Peculiar, isn't it?" Hego asked idly as he joined Anakin. "It would appear that there was no outside element at play. If that is true, this is nothing more than a natural plague."

Anakin frowned.

"You find that notion displeasing, young Jedi? To know this disaster is merely a matter of chance?" Hego asked idly.

"No, but I understand why others might," Anakin said softly. "When bad things happen, people want something to blame. Something or someone real, that they can point a finger at and say 'this is all your fault' and feel better about the situation."

"You speak from an area of experience, I believe," Hego remarked knowingly.

"What is your interest in all this, Magister?" Anakin asked idly.

Hego hummed, looking down at the young Jedi. "I have some associates who were concerned about the origin of this incident and wished me to look into the matter. I doubt they expected me to come myself."

Anakin nodded. So, someone feared being blamed for this. That didn't mean there was guilt, but there was a possibility. "Why did you? Come yourself, I mean?"

"A whim. I had the urge to come see to this myself for some reason," he answered idly while looking over the charts about some test or another.

Hego Damask might have the Force. It would certainly explain his skill as a businessman. And there were many strong with the Force that never became Jedi, never even set foot in the temple. This was nothing strange for now.

"Tell me, Young Jedi, do you know what the oldest and most deplorable business is for space-traveling societies?" Hego asked with a frown.

"Slavery?" Anakin answered almost instinctively. "Mercenaries?"

"Slavery is practiced regardless of a society's level of technology. And Mercenaries are not inherently unsavory. After all, they can as easily be hired for protection as for war," Hego answered. "No, once a people reach the level of venturing between planets, there is a far more insidious venture to consider."

Anakin regarded him curiously.

"Selling a cure for a problem you intentionally and secretly created," Hego explained. "Oh, true, it happens on smaller levels, but it takes on...another quality when you unleash a bacterium or invasive species onto a world, then step in to provide the solution. For a price. And all the while, the victim or 'clients' are either too primitive or isolated to ask the greater galactic community for information or alternatives."

Anakin saw his point. It reminded him of some twisted analogy to the chip that used to be in his skin; Slavery with extra steps. "The Albingi aren't primitive or that isolated though?" Anakin pointed out with a frown.

Hego chuckled hollowly. "That may be true, but that wouldn't stop those foolish or greedy enough to try it all the same, to endanger and exploit an entire world for profit. Much like the Trade Federation has been in recent times."

The Trade Federation. Anakin hadn't thought about them much in a year or so. He knew about their internal division, but that was a common thing in the galaxy these days. He wasn't sure if he would call any sides in the Trade Federation 'good' but hopefully something better would come out of that mess than what came before.

"Is that what you think this is, Magister?" Qui-Gon asked, entering the greenhouse in his own hazard suit.

Hego nodded to the Jedi Master in greeting. "I came to discern that myself. This may be natural. Disasters like this happen throughout all of time. Yet with the galaxy so divided, it is guaranteed that others will see the Republic's weakness as an opportunity. But the threat here may not be the disease, but the people affected."

"True enough," Qui-Gon said grimly. "Tensions continue to rise among the three factions. Even if this situation is resolved and the blight dealt with, there is no guarantee this world will remain peaceful for long."

Peace. It was a strange concept for Anakin, in terms of politics.

Jedi took the word to mean serenity, calm, and understanding. It was the peace of a clear and calm day in a tranquil environment. It was a peace of the self, and ideally of multiple selves. The peace of the Temple, essentially, even if that was strained. There was also oneness with the Force, but that was a goal rather than a regular state.

'Peace' in the sense of worlds and countries, of wars? That was something broader and less personal. Peace was a lack of open fighting between parties. 'Open' being the operative word. There were battles in politics, words made just as deadly as sabers and blasters, just less obvious.

Political Peace wasn't something Anakin personally saw as good, not inherently. That kind of 'peace' is what enabled the status quo of slavery and extortion, the peace of letting evil fester to not stir a hornet's nest. Peace like that sometimes felt cowardly.

Peace, for Anakin? He wasn't sure what his ideal vision of peace would be. People were complicated, so peace was complicated to ponder and find.

Unless you were a Sith, of course, then Peace was just a Lie.

Meanwhile

J'Mikel was sore, both in body and in spirit, but grateful to not die in such a miserable place with his Padawan in a slaver's grasp.

He stood gingerly outside the medical wing of the ship, his Padawan resting within. If he wasn't a Jedi, he probably wouldn't be up just yet. He probably shouldn't be regardless. But it was good to see space again, even Hyperspace, just to be outside the walls of that terrible room of death and suffering.

"Don't die on your feet, Jedi, when you are so close to home."

J'Mikel scowled to himself at the voice of the Sith. He was so weak right now, that he hadn't even noticed the Dark Lord's approach.

"Darth Vader," he greeted with a raspy but grateful voice. "I'm sure many at the Temple would shame me for giving thanks to a Sith."

"Then spare yourself the trouble, and do not," Vader advised. "You are part of the Liberation Lane."

It wasn't a question, so J'Mikel just hummed. "No one is part of the Lane, Vader. We merely help others pass through it when we can."

Vader accepted that double-speak easily. "How did that lead you into the clutches of the Black Sun?"

"The Vigo made a surprise stop," J'Mikel answered drily. "There are slavers that help the Lane."

Vader gave him a look.

The Jedi shrugged. "It is sometimes easier to undermine the system while pretending to be part of it."

"How very Sith," Vader said neutrally. The concept didn't bother him, but he wasn't sure how much he trusted a slaver who claimed to want to help free slaves.

"A false-slaver was helping us get several people to freedom. They had only been enslaved recently, so sparing them the horror of that was...motivating," J'Mikel answered with a solemn look.

"For your Padawan especially. She pushed for it, didn't she? "Vader guessed, sensing the Jedi's raw and unhidden feelings.

J'Mikel nodded. "The Vigo showed up there and wanted to buy them. The slaver didn't have a choice at the moment. If he had suspicion on himself, he could never help another soul out of that practice. He might even have been killed."

"You are confident this man did not turn against you," Vader noted.

"I am. Someone far more skilled than I vetted him," J'Mikel said with a small smile.

Vader found that interesting but didn't question it. "If I were to predict how this story plays out, I imagine you both tried to free the slaves regardless and got captured by the Vigo."

J'Mikel nodded. "I never should have brought Xiaan along."

"Despise it though you may, your Padawan posing as a slave is the best way to disappear in such an environment," Vader said, even if he shared J'Mikel's distaste. "Though, I would advise against any such missions for now."

"...You're going to let us go," J'Mikel said, relieved if not a bit surprised. "Why?"

"Jedi are not known for venturing out to free slaves," Vader said to the Jedi. "I am pleased to see that changing."

J'Mikel grunted in thought. "What of the others?"

"They are free to do as they please. I will see them the rest of the way, Jedi," Vader answered. "We will be escorting you back to Coruscant in a smaller ship. I trust you'll be able to get to the temple on your own after that."

J'Mikel chuckled. "Escorted by the soldiers of Vader himself. I suppose I should be honored to meet them on friendly terms."

Vader didn't disagree with that.

Meanwhile

"The High Counselor managed to get the Council to agree to reach out to about importing Alberries from off planet," Qui-Gon said, walking with Anakin through the hall of the building, the copper-skinned Albingi moving about as parts in their own bureaucratic machine.

Anakin found it morbidly fascinating how similar the bureaucratic nightmare could be no matter the species or culture. "That's good, obviously," Anakin agreed idly. "But who's least happy about it?"

"You might have known, if you attended the meeting," Qui-Gon said without judgment or reprimand. "Tell me, is it the Magister or the blight that has your attention, Padawan?"

"Both," Anakin answered. "I get the feeling that something else is going on here, Master, regarding the blight."

"And you think he is connected?" Qui-Gon asked in a low, low tone as he became wary of who might listen.

"No, no. He's hard to read sometimes, but he is very...curious, I guess?" Anakin answered uncertainly. "I don't think he knows what's going on, or caused it. But I think he has a suspicion of his own."

Qui-Gon nodded, finding some wisdom in Anakin's theory. Hego Damask's return to the public stage was curious, but many were making themselves known in these times. But his personal involvement here? He either owed a sizable favor to someone or he had a vested interest in the situation.

But confronting a man like Damask about such a thing might only make him defensive. So long as he appeared to be an ally in this endeavor, he saw no reason to press him while everything was still uncertain.

"The council, I have to ask? Which party was more upset by the importing proposal?" Anakin asked with a frown.

"None were thrilled. Various grumbling aside, most were just disheartened by the notion of needing to reach out to buy from another world what is normally such an everyday thing here," Qui-Gon remarked. "It dampens their anger at one another, if only out of a mutual sadness."

"Alliances of Hatred are fragile and dangerous, Alliances of Sorrow are strong yet temporary," Anakin said idly before blinking. "I can't remember, did you teach me that or was that something Vader told me in the forest?"

"Might have been something my old master passed along to you," Qui-Gon countered. "Tragedies can unite a people."

"Master Jedi, Padawan," an Albingi addressed them. "The High Counselor wants a word with you both. It is urgent."

The two shared a look at that before making their way to the office of the High Counselor. To their intrigue, there was a hologram of a human there.

"Master Jinn, Padawan Skywalker. This man has come here with a very serious matter," The High Counselor said with a scowl, nodding to the man.

He shifted nervously. "I won't give my name for obvious reasons. But I am what you might call a smuggler."

"Might?" Anakin questioned.

"I sometimes give cheap rides between planets. There was this woman, a human. She wanted to come to Albingi, said there was some great theater. I didn't question it at the time," the man explained. "But she had some plants with her. I didn't think anything of them until I saw the HoloNet report on this blight. The planets she had looked exactly like the blighted plants."

"You believe this woman started this epidemic?" Qui-Gon asked with a frown.

"We landed in the affected area, I remember that much. She was very specific about landing in that area, said there were friends nearby," he explained grimly. "I can tell you where she came from. Where she really came from."

"How?" The High Counselor asked skeptically. "Anything she said would be suspect."

"It's not what she said, Sir, but how she said it. Do stuff like this long enough and you notice all the slang and accents unique to different worlds. This woman? She was definitely from Oseon," he informed grimly.

"Oseon? Isn't that...?" Anakin trailed off, not sure if he was remembering right.

"The planet the imported Alberries are from," Qui-Gon confirmed grimly.

The High Counselor shook his head. "I don't suppose I can hope you will turn yourself to help with this investigation?"

"I'm sorry. But I have my own people to worry about, "the man informed apologetically. "That said, I didn't feel right not saying anything. I hope this information in some way helps."

With that, the hologram ended.

"Well...that's unexpected," Anakin said with a head shake. "What are the chances he was lying? Or even just wrong?"

"Not low enough not to look into it," Qui Gon said with a frown. "High Counsellor? I know what you must do-"

"Nothing, yes," The High Counselor said with grim amusement. "I can legally withhold information from the Council for up to one week to attempt an investigation."

A week. They had definitely worked with less in the past.

Meanwhile

"Looks like no more Black Sun contracts."

Bounty Hunters could sometimes be terrible at small talk. Faking it for a mission was one thing, actually doing it could be much more awkward.

Not that there wasn't anything about their relationship that wasn't awkward.

"We knew Vader was going to take a big bite out of someone eventually," Jango said as he checked over the controls. "I'm just surprised it wasn't the Hutts."

Boba grunted in agreement, standing in the back of the Slave I while his father did a routine system check. He looked up and frowned behind the mask. "You'll have to replace that in a few years."

"Hmm?" Jango glanced back at him.

"Relay to the turret. It wore out about two years before the Clone Wars. Was a pain in the ass to replace after it burst," Boba remarked absently.

"I'll keep that in mind," Jango acknowledged, watching as Boba didn't answer. Without a word, he stood up and headed over to the other man, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Son? You with me?"

Boba looked at him and there was a pause before Boba gave a full-body start. "Sorry. Every now and again, I look at you, and sometimes...I still see your corpse in the sand," Boba admitted gruffly.

Jango patted him on the shoulder sharply, reminding him that he was here. Right here and alive. "Son, I don't pretend to understand what you're going through. I think only Vader and a few others have to face a changed past regularly."

Boba looked down, trying to push aside the shame. Bounty Hunters with trauma and 'episodes' didn't last long if they weren't careful. His were...minor, thankfully. Being on a mission or in battle helped quiet his mind and push the entire time travel thing away. He didn't freeze up or get flashbacks when it was important. Just...random times like this, standing here with his father, very much alive.

It was funny. This Jango didn't raise him. Didn't know all the little things his...true father? First father? Original Timeline father?- his version of Jango knew about him. But it didn't seem to matter. It was a little hard for the man to wrap his head around, a son from the future, but he had treated Boba like family in a way that only a Fett might understand.

"You never did tell me why green?" Jango said in idle interest.

"It blends in more, Old Man. Unlike your shiny suit," Boba answered in amusement.

"If you say so," Jango retorted with a chuckle.

"...You ever disappointed with how I turned out?" Boba asked. There was no shame or fear in his voice, just wanting to hear his father's opinion of himself.

"Questionable risks aside?" Jango started, shaking his head. "No. You sound like a son I would have been proud to tell stories about when I retired. The only regret your Jango would have had is not giving you a longer childhood."

"Longer than most clones got," Boba said with a frown. "You know they tried to clone me too?"

"Did they? Sounds like a bad idea, no offense. Copying cloned DNA sounds like you're asking for problems to happen," Jango said with mild interest. "You must have impressed some people real hard to want more of you that badly."

Boba nodded in agreement. "Vader had other bounties hunters, but I was the most frequent."

"I get the impression he might have killed some of them himself," Jango mused.

Boba nodded in agreement once more and let the silence reign. There was a lot of silence between them. There was a lot to say sometimes, and when there was, they said it bluntly and to the point.

"Etern have any friends? Man was long dead by the time I looked into the Black Sun of my time," Boba asked idly.

"None that would want to avenge him personally. Just the other Vigos that would do it for the Black Sun and their own skins," Jango answered. "But since it's Vader they'd be risking battle with, they might back off. Or might think he needs to be put in his place."

"So they're either do nothing or bring everything," Boba summarized dryly. "Wonderful."

"Well, good to know my sense of humor is genetic," Jango said idly.

Behind the mask, Boba smiled. If there was one good thing about his entrapment in the past, it was spending more time with this version of his father.