Chapter Twelve

Elsewhere in the mountain a small cruiser was arriving. It was a Consular class out of the Corellian Star System, which was known as much for its bizarre nature as for the fact its denizens composed some of the best, and most combative, spacers in the entire Republic. The Consular however was not a merchant or combat ship, though it could serve those roles. No, it was known primarily as a diplomatic ship, and this one was painted the red of neutrality as was usual on those missions. But the Consular class was also predominantly used by the Jedi Order, as was the case with this one.

Some called the Jedi troublemakers, some called them a quasi-religious order devoted to meddling with things that they shouldn't. Others thought that they were troubleshooters of the Republic, and respected or loathed them for it, while still more looked up to them as a source of honor and dignity in the galaxy. It really depended on what planet you were on and what the Jedi were there to do really, just like normal police in many ways.

On this planet it caused some looks of consternation and anger from the rest of the spacers in the massive hangar bay high up the mountain, and more than one of them hurried away rapidly. Most of them however simply went about their business, those closest nodding to the two men who were walking down the gangplank of the ship. Whether that was because they had nothing to fear from them or because they knew that running would attract the Jedi's attention none could say.

"Master Tholme, I still don't understand why this one smuggling operation is of such import that it would require two Jedi to look into it, especially on a planet like Ryloth." Said the younger male turning to the older obviously continuing a conversation that must've started inside the ship. He was a wild haired young man, with the traditional apprentice knot falling down one side of his face, but with black, lanky hair falling down all around to his shoulders as well. He had a bright yellow bar of some kind of tattoo straight across his nose, a sign of the particular subset of humanity he represented, the Kiffar.

He was shaking his head as he walked down the gangplank his eyes looking around keenly. "If the Republic is going to allow this planet to continue to use the slavery of its own people as its main export, they have to realize that that's going to open the door for other illegal ventures."

"It comes down to politics my padawan," replied the older man in a calm tone of voice. He was slightly taller than his fellow, though the youngster obviously had growth still to look forward to. Tall thin and with prematurely graying hair, he radiated a sense of calm, controlled purpose. Yet even he was looking around interestedly, his senses spreading out. "It always comes down to politics. Some of the animals that are being shipped around are endangered and are from planets that follow the Republic's laws on such issues. They put pressure on the Senate to do something, and the Senate turned to us."

"And the senators still say they don't need a galactic peacekeeping force?" said the padawan shaking his head. "Master Tholme, that's ridiculous. And why did they send us here of all places to start searching? Finding something like that will be like finding, finding a single needle in a pile of them master!"

"Because Ryloth is where some of the evidence leads us to believe the operation is centered." Said the master still calmly, but now turning sharp eyes on his padawan. "You are anxious Quinlan." he stated bluntly. "You have been since he entered orbit. Why?"

"I, I do not know master." said the now named Quinlan humbly, bowing his head, though even so his eyes were still searching around. "The Force is trying to tell me something, but I cannot…I feel drawn somewhere though I can't seem to localize precisely where or why. Only that there is something I must do here, or maybe someone I need to find."

"And is that all you feel? My own senses are telling me something entirely different." Tholme replied, frowning in thought. The Force here felt strange, not dark, not warped, but strange. There was almost a loving warmth to it, a sense of happiness. He had never felt the like before, and the odd ripples were strange as well.

Could this be related to that massive splash of Force that was felt a few standard months ago? That splash of Force power had been felt by almost every Jedi in the galaxy, but it was so powerful the epicenter of it couldn't be found even by the best of them.

"It's hard to get a read on." he said aloud. "It's somewhere nearby, but nearby as in a mile away, or less? Spread your senses out my padawan, and tell me what you think."

Quinlan did so, hoping that this would also give him a chance to discover more about the feeling that apparently only he was getting of the two but it didn't work. Instead he got a glimpse of what his master was feeling and his eyes widened, cutting back to his master's face. "The Force is, is happy master? I don't know how best to describe it other than that. I didn't think that the Force itself could feel emotions like that."

"It has been known to occur on occasion, though not quite like this." Tholme replied, shrugging his shoulders and moving towards the giant hatchway leading deeper into the mountain that housed the main settlement of the Twi'leks. "There were a few instances of such occurring in the past, though I think that the last one was at least four or 500 years ago. The only one who would now would be master Yoda I suppose. Set that aside for now, we have a job to do. After that, we can stay around and see if we can satisfy our curiosity."

The padawan nodded, hurrying after him fingering a long cylinder that was resting on his belt for a moment when he noticed the looks that he they were getting from some quarters. Like finding a single needle in a pile of them, Quinlan thought, shaking his head. Still, if it wasn't a tough job, they wouldn't need Jedi for it.