(Naboo, city of Moenia, 21.9BBY, 5 seconds later)
Staring impassively at the two relatively small blots of disease that happened to look like men, my reply was simple and to the point.
"No."
The Force intensified my awareness of the others' reactions to this succinct reply. They ranged from incredulous disbelief (Padme, Ahsoka), to stunned surprise and outraged fury (The Bpfasshi brothers). Crissayel had momentarily turned his attention my way, feeling a flicker of surprise at my answer, but for the most part, the shapeshifter hadn't taken his eyes off the Force-sensitive serial killer still hovering rigidly behind me.
It was the older of the two near-humans who recovered from this unexpected shock to their sensibilities first. His inky black and chalky white striped right hand tightened on the chin of the older woman, as he pressed harder with his other hand on the left side of her head. The painful torquing movement pulled a cry of pain from his victim, despite her best effort to remain silent and unresisting, so as not to provoke her captor.
It was a move meant to remind me who held the power here, as if I needed to be reminded of something so self-evident.
Subtly moving my off-hand through a series of tiny movements at my side, as slowly as was humanly possible, I restated my position dispassionately, "I'm not going to release Ravara, Bpfasshi. She's a mad kath hound, who would kill the hostages out of spite the very instant she was free. Obviously, you can make your hostages pay the price for my refusal, but all that will accomplish is depriving you and your kinsman of their protection. If anything should happen to either woman, I promise you this, you'll be dead before their body hits the ground." It wasn't a very Jedi thing to say, but my Master had taught me I should speak truth whenever possible, and the truth was, these pretenders were embarrassments to the cause of Evil even when compared to the likes of Karoc and Vinoc.
A silence fell over our two groups with these words. The older Bpfasshi was studying me intently now. His cold dark eyes sweeping over me in a measuring manner, as he undoubtedly looked for any signs of weakness or doubt. The lack of fear in both Dark Siders told me this one thought I was simply bluffing, while the younger one seemed to follow his senior unquestioningly.
Something needed to happen to upend this unpleasant balance, and I had an idea what that was intended to be. Which only went to show I was actually capable of learning from experience.
The silenced slug-thrower offered no conventional warning that it had just been fired several times, but the piercing trill of the Force's warning, plus the rough directionality of that warning, gave me plenty of opportunity to mount an effective defense. There was a high-pitched metallic sound that was strangely dulled, as the quartet of slugs smashed into the tilted umbrella of force which had appeared behind my party in plenty of time to deny the high-caliber rounds passage. A fifth, sixth, seventh, and eighth slug were walked progressively downward of the first four, but I'd created the Force Barrier to cover our group and prisoner right down to ground-level, so these slugs went the wasted way of the first group of bullets.
Expression unchanged by this sudden, but not unexpected attempt on our lives, I questioned the Bpfasshi in a conversational tone, "Was that the last of Ravara's contingencies, or is there something else I'll still need to weather with minimal effort? It's no trouble to keep Ravara contained, maintain the barrier that's holding your friend with the slug-thrower in check, and continue to cast my awareness in a wide enough net to prevent any unexpectedly competent surprises from coming upon us unawares, but despite my being able to keep this up for days, we are expected elsewhere this afternoon. Would you like to reconsider your involvement in whatever Separatist scheme Ravara's involved in? Neither of your hostages has come to any irrecoverable harm as yet, so if you were to let go of them and run, I'd be obliged to remain here holding Ravara. She will be going back into permanent stasis, so you won't have to worry about any reprisals from her."
The younger of the two Bpfasshi glanced at the older one to his right as I spoke. He did a fairly good job of keeping his features expressionless, but even through the miasma that was his Force-presence, I could sense the anxiety that was slowly but steadily building in him. Unfortunately, it was his older relation calling the shots, and that one was now scoffing derisively at me.
"Just that easy, eh? We're mixed up with the killing of one woman, we took two more hostage, and we tried to help an inter-system fugitive capture a Jedi Knight, but we're supposed to believe after all that, you'll just let us go? No, we're not that stupid, Jedi. This is your last chance. Throw down your weapon and surrender before I count to three, or we will kill the hostages. You can pretend not to care for their well-being all you like, but everyone knows how you Jedi prize your reputations as heroic protectors of the innocent and downtrodden, so I think it's past time your bluff was called."
Contrary to my confident show for the Bpfasshi, I was feeling the strain of holding Ravara so tightly while maintaining such a large Force Barrier. When the older Dark Sider began counting, though, I knew I needed something clever. Something that didn't involve trying to split my capacity to use the Force a fourth way.
Fortunately, as I surreptitiously jabbed my pinky fingertip in the direction of the Bpfasshi and the hostages for the fourth time, I had just such a backup plan of my own.
"If only this damnable mist would oblige me with another shift," I thought with a touch of irritation. Patiently waiting for Moenia's pea-soup fog to billow as it had every fifteen or twenty seconds since Crissayel had first stopped us.
"ONE!" The Bpfasshi aggressively barked, one hand tightening on his prospective victim's chin, as the other planted itself more firmly against the opposite side of her head.
A cool and rather damp breeze began to ruffle my hair, as the Dark Sider imperiously snapped, "TWO!"
The city's omnipresent mist had now almost entirely obscured our two groups, with respect to one another, but even as it continued to thicken, I could tell it wasn't going to hide us in time.
My lightsaber's energy shroud vanished as I powered it down and dropped it. Calling out in a loud voice I let some of the anxiety I would otherwise allow to pass through me color my voice, "Wait! My lightsaber's on the ground. You win, Bpfasshi. Ahsoka, drop your lightsaber, now."
The surge of relief mixed with a bullish sort of triumph oozed from the Bpfasshi's aura, as he confidently demanded, "Kick them over here, and get down on the ground!"
"Whatever you say, just don't harm your captives. They're the innocent parties in all of this," I replied in a voice I'd allowed to grow a bit shaky. The fog was almost a solid gray wall in the area surrounding the tavern on our left, and the wider thoroughfare to our right, but it still wasn't quite thick enough for my needs.
Lowering myself to my knees, I heard my apprentice's lightsaber clatter as it was dropped onto the duracrete walkway we stood on. The Bpfasshi's attention was entirely focused on me now. I could feel it like a cold prickling all over my body. He watched, unblinking, as I went down onto my belly, then let out a nervous laugh I was certain he hadn't intended.
The breeze swirled again, and the fog descended like a gray curtain. Cutting of my view of the Bpfasshi with their hostages, just as it obscured the Bpfasshi's view of us.
That's when IG-1 made his move, as directed by my earlier hand signals. The state-of-the-art actuators in the advanced war-droid's legs sending him six or seven meters into the air from a standing start, and carrying him well overhead of our party. I couldn't see it happen, but I knew the droid's hands would be reconfiguring themselves into heavy blaster armatures as he arced over our heads. I'd slaved over those armatures, to cut the transformation time down to something feasible in a close-quarters shootout, rather than simply being an alternate weapons loadout for the battlefield, and now I was seeing, or rather, not seeing, all that hard work pay off.
The distinctive Bee-weem, Bee-weem sound of heavy stunners discharging echoed back at us from the fog, and then there was the softer sounds of a group of bodies hitting the ground in boneless heaps. Approximately half a second later, a soft thump and subtle whine told me IG-1 had landed. The shock-absorbing elements in his leg-actuators keeping his frame in perfect balance. Ready to act again, if necessary.
Calling my lightsaber to hand almost without thinking, I rolled onto my back, pinwheeled my legs with a snap of my hips, and corkscrewed upright. Just in time for IG-1 to report on the results of his actions.
"Two of three hostiles neutralized, hostage condition nominal. Pursuit protocol functions available for the next three hours, twenty-eight minutes, and fifty-four seconds," IG-1 announced in his flat manner, as he smoothly continued divesting the unconscious Bpfasshi of weapons. When he finished disarming the pair, he pulled the arms of the Bpfasshi behind their backs one at a time, then folded a leg up to bring each ankle into reach. Linking them both ankle-to-wrist with the binders he carried in a concealed rear-torso compartment.
"I approve of the proactive thinking, IG-1, but that's a negative regarding pursuit of the shooter. They undoubtedly know the immediate area better than we do, and any skilled mercenary or bounty hunter that Ravara hired will have had a bugout plan they could put into action the moment things showed any sign of going south. Our priority remains the Senator's," My easy reply to the droid died unfinished, as a great wash of black HATRED and icy rage washed over me.
The source of these feelings was obvious, so I spun and began to reach out with the Force. Intent on stopping what I already knew I was going to be too late to prevent.
The wet sound of something hard and unyielding hitting flesh was eerily muffled by the fog. The same went for the sharp, choking gasp which followed. All told, no more than a second or two passed, before I swept a wide yet gentle Force-push left-to-right through the air before me. Clearing the fog from our immediate area for a few seconds.
The temporary retreat of the concealing mist revealed what I'd already guessed I would see, yet the actual sight still managed to shock and even sicken me a little. That barely audible choking sound had become a faltering liquid gurgle so quiet, it faded in and out of audibility, but even this quiet sound stood out in the sudden silence. The hatred and cold fury there'd been no way to ignore only moments ago now abated with all the suddenness of their arrival, like floodwaters rapidly rushing past the place their passage had so recently devastated.
Crissayel had shifted until he resembled something much like a Gundark, if gundarks were eight feet tall, coal-black, and had four long, straight, gleaming black spikes for limbs, rather than clawed hands. He stood with his back to me, directly in front of Ravara's still floating form.
Each of his four spike-extremities were buried deeply in the Cathar's belly and chest, so it almost looked from my vantage as if the shapeshifter was preparing to embrace the murderess he'd just killed. Knowing it no longer mattered, I released my grip on the Dark Jedi's dying form. Wincing internally at the drawn-out slithering sound the bloody spikes made, as the body slid from their lengths to lay in a crumpled heap before the man who'd killed her.
Glancing to one side, I saw Padme watching the tableau with pursed lips and an expression of grim resolve. Ahsoka looked like she might sick up at any moment, but I noted with approval that she'd already recovered her lightsaber. IG-1 had left off tending to the stunned Naboo women and watching the cuffed Bpfasshi to interpose his frame between the two women, because the droid recognized the Shi'ido as a potential threat.
Taking a few steps toward the shapeshifter, while taking care to remain out of arm's reach, I called out in as neutral tone as I could manage, "Does it make it hurt any less?"
The Shi'ido remained silent long enough, I'd begun to think he had no intention of responding, or was lost in his own world of bloody self-recrimination, when he raggedly replied in a far deeper and huskier voice than his previous one, "How long have you known my sister was already dead?"
Knowing it was a risk to tell him the truth, I still answered, "The moment I laid eyes on Ravara, I knew it was almost a certainty, but I'd held out hope her sadism might have convinced her to delay the inevitable. Then the Bpfasshi confirmed my fears. This is what Ravara does, did, Crissayel. She destroyed the lives of attractive and successful young women that reminded her of the Arkanian pirate queen who humiliated and scarred her, when she was still an apprentice. I could tell you about how my elders tried to lock her away forever, when they realized the hatred, envy, resentment and rage inside Ravara could never be quelled, or explain how the power behind the Separatists freed dozens of monsters like Ravara to serve their ends, but it wouldn't change anything, would it?"
Pausing to give the hurting young man a chance to reply, I added very quietly when he remained silent, "Crissayel, I need you to listen to me carefully. Strip the two Bpfasshi and Ravara's body of any credsticks or valuables they're carrying, then get the fark out of here. Take a shape none of us here have seen, and leave Moenia for a couple of months. The constabulary aren't likely to kick up too much fuss over the death of an inter-system fugitive like Ravara, but there's no sense tempting fate. You cannot be here when the constables arrive, or I'll have to help them take you in."
There still wasn't any response from the Shi'ido, so I regretfully decided to play dirty, "Your sister was terrified she'd drag you down with her, Crissayel. Are you really going to give Ravara one last victory, and make your parents lose both their children? GO!"
That got through the haze of grief and pain. The shapeshifter's initial movements were hesitant and jerky, but by the time he was finished rummaging through Ravara's belt-pouches, the Shi'ido was moving quickly and with purpose. Ahsoka and Padme were both crowding in on me as we watched him search the bound and still unconscious Dark Siders, but I hadn't taken my attention off the traumatized young man.
Which was why, when he lifted a couple of thin black chains with strange, organic-looking pendants over the heads of the two Bpfasshi, I saw and called out sharply, "DROP THOSE LIKE THEY'RE ON FIRE!"
Glancing back over his shoulder at me with an unreadable expression on his Gundark-like countenance, the huge, heavily muscled being didn't reply. He just dropped the things beside the unconscious thugs, finished his search, and, with one look back in our direction, lumbered off into the mist.
Just in time, because I could now hear the rapidly approaching footfalls of booted feet on the duracrete walkway. Fortunately, they were coming from the direction we'd initially been headed, which was the opposite direction the shapeshifter had gone.
"You just walked a killer through the steps necessary to elude the authorities," Padme remarked in a low tone not meant to carry. I didn't sense any anger or disapproval in her, but neither could I detect approval or any other sign she agreed with my decision. Ahsoka had moved close enough to listen, so I considered my reply carefully.
"My Master taught me that justice is supposed to be the process of rebalancing scales that have grown wildly imbalanced. Well, Ravara played out her sick game with dozens of innocents, and never faced any real repercussions for all that torture and murder. This time, one of her victims turned out not to be as helpless or broken as she believed, and it killed her," My answer wasn't the kind of cogent point of philosophy I'd been hearing Jedi Masters rattle off for years, but that didn't make it less true, or less something I believed.
Ravara had had it coming, so the proverbial worm had finally turned, and it turned out said worm had been packing a repeating blaster. For me, it was really that simple.
Ahsoka very obviously wanted to argue the point, but just then a trio of constables came rushing up with stun-batons out and at the ready. I wasn't a fan of the non-lethal takedown devices, but I consoled myself with the fact the woman and two men in uniform did have a fairly effective model of blaster holstered at their sides.
Padme's expression didn't give me much clue as to what she thought of my reply, but what I was getting through the bond wasn't definitively negative, either. Her previous observation could have been a simple probe to see where our respective moral codes fell in relation to one another's, or it might be that she disapproved personally, but wasn't willing to argue the point in public.
One of the constables belatedly noticed IG-1, and reflexively went through a very adroit seeming holstering of the baton, unholstering of the blaster movement that occurred all at once, but that's where I decided to intervene.
"Constables. I'm Anakin Skywalker, Jedi Knight, and this is my Padawan learner, Ahsoka Tano. We're here as Senator Amidala's protection detail. Queen Jamillia and Captain Panaka are both aware of the, ahh, advanced sentinel droid that is presently part of Senator Amidala's detail, and I have the Captain's signed exemption for IG-1's otherwise proscribed presence right here," These introductions I offered with the kindly yet confident smile my Master had made a part of my training, while my tone was pure 'Jedi Business, everything is under control.' I handed the older of the two male constables the small datapad from my utility pouch, and watched as he scanned it with the eye of a professional.
Unfortunately, police officers weren't terribly inclined to accept the assurances of others that matters were under control. Not when there was a dead woman in evidence, whose body showed unmistakable signs of a bloody and violent death, at any rate. The presence of the cuffed and unconscious Bpfasshi, as well as the mother/daughter ex-hostages just now regaining consciousness, only seemed to upset them further, but it was IG-1 that really had them on edge and about to blow. Given the Blockade and ensuing Invasion, though, it wasn't hard to understand why the woman and the older of the two male constables were looking at the droid like they expected him to begin a violent rampage at any moment.
A fact that was only underscored by the first statement actually put to me, "A woman is dead, Knight Skywalker, and two of our people appear to have been assaulted. I'm afraid we're going to need a considerably more detailed explanation of what went on here, or any explanation as to what happened, for that matter." This was said by the older Naboo man I guessed to be in his mid-fifties. His lined and deeply tanned face was full of controlled tension, while the serious yet detached manner he was affecting spoke of a man practiced at keeping his feelings firmly under control while working. His dark eyes met and held my own gaze, as he waited expectantly for that explanation.
The female constable had her blaster in hand at this point, and she seemed genuinely angered by IG-1's presence. Every time her gaze returned to the droid, her frown deepened a little more, and she clutched the grip of her weapon tighter and tighter, until she was holding it in an almost white-knuckled grip. The other man in uniform seemed content to let the senior constable take the lead, because he'd simply moved over to the recovering women to offer them his assistance and reassurance. Every several seconds he glanced in the direction of our party, but for the most part he wasn't really involved in what was going on here.
Fortunately, Padme stepped in at that moment, as smoothly as if we had planned it, "Constable, Kiheeri is it? I want to thank you and your fellow officers for your admirable response-time. We were only set upon by the deceased, her two accomplices presently in the binders, and an unidentified shooter perhaps four or five minutes ago, all told."
Before the older constable Padme had just addressed could respond, the female constable, who'd been giving Ravara's corpse a cursory examination whenever she wasn't glaring at IG-1, called out in a challenging tone, "This woman's wounds weren't caused by an energy weapon. I count four distinct instances of penetrating trauma in the chest and abdomen, but the blood spatter is all wrong for even the briefest close-quarters exchange of blows. It's like something bigger than a man snatched the victim off her feet, pounded a number of rapid-fire holes into her until she died, then discarded her like a broken toy."
All three constables turned to eye the two meter-plus now mostly silver and gray droid watching them with blue photoreceptors, until I could almost feel them examining IG-1's limbs for the slightest trace of red. This scrutiny continued for a solid ten seconds, until the high-strung female constable turned her attention my way to demandingly ask, "This thing doesn't have a restraining bolt. Is it going to attack me, if I approach to examine it more closely with a forensics scanner?"
I was a bit offended on IG-1's behalf, but I allowed the anger to pass through me without resistance, then calmly replied, "IG-1 wouldn't attack you if you shot him, Constable. I wouldn't have brought him to Naboo, if I wasn't absolutely certain he was ready for field work. He's actually the one who resolved the hostage situation in a manner that left perpetrators and captives both unharmed."
Left unsaid was the fact that IG-1 wouldn't feel a need to respond to being struck by the charge of a blaster pistol, because the only part of him vulnerable to the constable's weapon were the full-spectrum photoreceptors in his cranial unit. The constable seemed twitchy enough already. She definitely didn't need to know the war-droid was perceptive enough to detect her finger beginning to tighten on the trigger, fast enough to dodge before she could track him with the barrel, and tough enough besides to tank everything the city constabulary could likely throw his way. Mercy was the gift of the strong, and I'd made sure IG-1 could almost always afford to be merciful. You couldn't build a Jedi, but I'd certainly given my all to refurbishing the next best thing.
Looking like she was tiptoeing through an active minefield toward a starving Vornskr, the constable tentatively approached an unmoving IG-1. The wand-like scanner now in her hand slowly passed up and down his long-limbed frame, before giving off a dull sound I assumed from her surprised and frustrated expression meant a negative result. When she unnecessarily announced a few moments later, "No significant traces of blood or viscera, but I'm detecting high levels of energetic particles. This droid fired, or was in extremely close proximity to a powerful blaster as it was discharged very recently," I made sure to school my own expression to the grave seriousness others would no doubt expect of a Jedi under these circumstances.
Ever since my Knighting, I'd been learning bit by bit that it was one thing to be an unusually competent devotee of the Force and its ways for my age, but quite another to be a Jedi Knight. It seemed to me, especially at times like this, to be very much like a trite saying dimly recalled from my first life.
You faked it, until, one day, you found you'd made it. If that did turn out to be the way of this thing I aspired to become, then I knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that today was not the day of my making.
Again, thankfully, Padme reasserted control over the conversation by reasonably replying, "From what I observed, IG-1 used the blasters built into his arms to stun the hostages and their captors. I couldn't see much of the actual takedown due to a sudden increase in the density of the fog surrounding us at the time, but it's my understanding the fog isn't an impediment to the droid. Knight Skywalker simply played for time by feigning his surrender, waited for one of the regular increases in the fog's thickness to completely obscure both our groups from each other's members, then cued his very capable droid retainer to leap over our party to stun hostages and captors alike."
Padme, I noted with some interest, chose not to mention what Ravara was doing here, or Crissayel's role in these events.
The slender brunette constable now had a mulish look of frustration on her moderately attractive face at her failure to link IG-1 to any wrongdoing, but the senior officer seemed to have studied the exchanges to date and come to a decision. Fixing a stern and pointed look on his younger comrade for a couple of seconds that did an excellent job of immediately conveying his wish that she shut up, he turned his attention back to Pame with a genial look that held just a little bit of awe as well. When he finally spoke up again, his tone actually seemed apologetic, as he asked the obvious question in a politely roundabout sort of way. "Ma'am, Senator, we still need to determine how the Cathar woman died. If you could just give us some idea of how she came to be killed during the recent confrontation, we can postpone, possible even forego, all of you needing to come in to provide formal statements. Knight Skywalker's exemption documentation alluded to your being on the Queen's business, so we certainly don't want our investigation to become an impediment to whatever it is you're doing for the Crown."
Turning to look at me, Padme's words were for the constable, as she replied, "I think Knight Skywalker could provide you with a more complete rundown of what transpired. His Jedi abilities allow him to perceive people and events in progress well beyond the range of our more conventional senses. This makes twice now he's detected a distant sniper before they could fire, for example."
Constable Kiherri turned his attention back to me, so I replied, "The Cathar woman's name is, was, Ravara Zi Venn. She was one of a number of extremely dangerous prisoners broken out of a maximum-security prison about a year ago, by a CIS taskforce. I believe she was here to advance one of the Separatists goals, but there's something you need to understand, Constable. Whatever else Ravara was, and whatever agenda she was pursuing for the CIS, she was a serial killer. Someone who derived a sick satisfaction from stalking, abducting, torturing, and finally killing attractive young women who'd achieved a degree of success in their lives."
Allowing his mask of professionalism to slip, the middle-aged man frowned as he very pointedly told me in a tone thick with disapproval, "With all due respect, Master Jedi, I hope that wasn't your roundabout way of telling me we should ignore a clear-cut case of murder in our city, because the victim happened to be a horrible person in life."
Padme seemed very interest in what reply I intended to make, but I wasn't going to pretend I gave a damn about a monster like Ravara being killed for anyone.
Giving a slight shrug to emphasize my indifference, I replied in a flatly dispassionate tone, "I wasn't suggesting you ignore the fact a murder was committed, Constable. I was suggesting there is nothing you can actually do about it. Short of the perpetrator walking into one of your stations and confessing to the crime, there is no conceivable way to winnow through all the many hundreds or even thousands of people with good reason to want Ravara Zi Venn dead. Not and find the one individual who did more than fantasize about destroying the monster who caused them and their loved ones so much pain. Fark, there are so many people who'd love to dance on Ravara's grave, I could easily believe that simple coincidence could have caused more than one such person to be in this city, on this day, at this time."
I paused just long enough for Constable Kiherri to open his mouth in preparation to offer some rebuttal, then continued in a cool, matter of fact sort of way by asking, "A college freshman auditing their first pre-law class could raise enough reasonable doubt to secure an acquittal in anything resembling a fair trial, Constable. You know this as well as I do, so why are you trying to start an argument with me over an impossibility?"
Looking mutinous and yes, more than a little argumentative, the cop exclaimed, "But, you're a Jedi! You were right there! There's just no way you didn't see, or, or sense what happened! The Senator was just saying you knew about some sniper pulling a trigger from who knows where. You can't tell me you didn't get a look at the person who killed this woman."
Nodding slowly, as if only grudgingly admitting the truth of the man's words, I confirmed in an even tone, "Ravara's killer stood approximately two point five meters tall, weighed about two hundred thirty kilos, and was generally humanoid in appearance. The alien's skin was an unrelieved matte black, they had four long bone spikes placed in two parallel rows rather than arms, and the body was shaped for all the world like an oversized gundark. The last time I saw said being, they were loping due west, before disappearing into the fog. I'd been calling on the Force to the point that many Jedi Knights more experienced than myself would have been completely exhausted, so I elected not to use up my remaining strength trying to keep track of the killer. I didn't see the actual killing, but the immediate aftermath left no doubt in my mind that the fatal injuries were caused by those spike-limbs. I was coordinating with IG-1 to take down the Bpfasshi hostage takers when she was killed, so that's really everything I can tell you about the moments leading up to Ravara's death."
Glancing from me to Padme to Ahsoka, the constable was confronted by one confirming nod after another. Padme did, however, add with some confidence, "I can't imagine something so attention-getting in appearance could go very far in a city the size of Moenia. Not without sightings of such an alien generating a massive number of calls to the constabulary by frightened citizens, anyways. It's simply not possible that such a being could lumber into the city, lope back out, and go entirely unremarked while traveling in either direction. If I were you, Constable, I'd be asking myself how such a dangerous looking alien managed to avoid being seen for what it was by anyone else. Answer that question, and I think you'll be a great deal closer to figuring out exactly what happened."
Now it was the older cop's turn to slowly nod his acceptance of Padme's impeccably reasoned statements. He still looked more than a little frustrated, but the nebulous suspicion that had been growing in the dark-haired, dark eyed man prior to the slender brunette speaking up had now begun to noticeably ebb. A fact I took as my cue to try and get our group back on track.
"I don't mean to be abrupt, Constable, but we've been expected lakeside for some time now. If you aren't yet satisfied with our collective accounting, could we at least continue this interview as we walk?" My question was asked as politely as I knew how, but it was Padme rather than me the officer looked to before finally nodding.
I was so thankful to be back on the move at last, I almost forgot the strange pendants both Bpfasshi had been wearing. Calling the necklaces to me garnered a surprised yelp from the female constable, but I only flashed her a brief but apologetic smile, then strode to catch up with the group.
"Ashla, what's going to be next?" I found myself thinking more than a little dourly.