The Danger of Trained Tigers

[Rossos Atrapes]

"Evidence 2219-13-B: scorch marks from an energy weapon believed to be a lightsaber."

The holocamera flashed in the darkened train car, illuminating for a moment the dark interior. The photographer, wearing dark, loose clothing, pulled his mask back over his face before leaning in close to take another picture.

His actions were replicated throughout the train, and throughout the surrounding area; the Stormtroopers who had been killed in the control booth were well documented. Each spider drone was marked for evidence and also by its designation numbers to further cross-reference information.

"Inquisitor," a man asked quietly while he stood, looking silently into the dark cell where Laran had been held. "The Minister is coming."

"Let me know when he arrives," Atrapes answered, turning from the wreckage of the door. He looked up, noting the holes melted away and the scorch marks there as well. His battle had taken place up there. He ignored the agent's assent and dismissed him with a wave of his hand.

He ascended the car, climbing to the top and settling his balance. Here he'd fought Thanewulf. He moved over to the side, seeing her hanging from the edge in his mind's eye; adrenaline rushed through his veins, and the warning from the Force came almost too late. He turned, remembering where the bearded Jedi had leapt to Thanewulf's defense. What had Thanewulf called him?

"Make a note and start a file on one... Anbira," Atrapes said aloud. "Unknown whether personal or surname. Possible Jedi. Well trained, at the very least."

Behind him a floating droid, almost like a probe droid, flashed the information to IMP. Atrapes breathed deeply, and began stalking towards the end the of train, his mind awhirl with theories.

[Amés Falcon Liszt]

The airspeeder was the most expensive craft that the Empire's Corporate Responsibility and Sustainability allowed him to requisition. Unfortunately, the member of the Imperial Commerce Board in charge of setting the regulations for Corporate Aerospace Procurement were very big on providing a high level of cost avoidance, but alas not a high level of comfort.

Most Moffs and Ministers purchased private craft; and the ridiculous government salary of Sir Amés Falcon Liszt - Minister of the Interior - was certainly enough to afford a very luxurious little speeder. However, Sir Amés had principles; and despite countless assurances that the Imperial Officer assigned to chauffeur him around Imperial Center was an extremely competant pilot, the Minister had no intention of placing several hundred thousand credits worth of speeder into the hands of someone who was clearly such a poor pilot that they wouldn't even let him fly around as cannon fodder in one of those wretched, unshielded TIE Fighters.

Not only had the journey from his large, luxurious office been decidedly uncomfortable; clambering over the rubble that surrounded the Inquisitorial train wreck - an accurate literal and metaphorical description - was similarly unpleasant. He had considered not coming at all, particularly after the subordinate he had already sent in his place had been turned away; however, when an opportunity to remind the Inquisitors of their complete and utter failure arose, Amés could not in good conscious let it pass him and his ministry by.

Of course, Amés had no idea who he was looking for. He supposed he could have done some digging, called in some favours, and got a look at the file for the lead Inquisitor; but really, that seemed like far too much effort, and he'd been a little preoccupied recieving a much needed and much deserved massage from a pair of rather lovely Twi'leki twins. He was hoping that his field agent's description - frustrated, wavy hair, beard - would be enough to go on.

It was.

Or at least, he hoped it was. Rather than make a fool of himself by simply assuming that the man who appeared rather dramatically around the corner of the train was in fact the very Rossos Atrapes he was looking for, he instead glanced around the area with mild disinterest, making sure to position himself exactly - but not obviously - in the Inquisitor's way.

"Who's in charge around here?" he asked, sounding bored, after the Inquisitor was forced to stop.

[Rossos Atrapes]

"I am overseeing this investigation at the moment," the Inquisitor said, after stopping and looking at the Minister. "Inquisitor Atrapes, Minister Liszt."

He motioned absently and continued marching along the side of the train.

"Note," he said to the floating droid behind him. "At least three assailants were Force Adepts. They were acting in concert; flag for importance."

[Amés Falcon Liszt]

Sir Amés frowned at the droid that followed Atrapes dutifully around. The Minister enjoyed frowning, and was particularly good at it: no doubt a level of skill born out of regular practice.

He also had plenty of practice at distrusting things, and was particularly good at that, too. He watched the floating droid with suspicion, but was careful not to let that detract from his healthy distrust of the Inquisitor himself.

The Inquisitor was the perfect representation of everything Sir Amés found frustrating about the Empire. Atrapes was part of an order that existed in shadow and secret, outside the normal channels and jurisdictions, and beyond the reach of accountability. Even the mysterious Force that so many of them wielded was beyond comprehension for a mere mortal like Sir Amés; and of there was one universal constant, it was that Sir Amés did not trust what he did not understand.

"Flag for importance?" Amés muttered, maintaining his air of disinterest. "More like flag for bloody obvious."

[Rossos Atrapes]

The Inquisitor seemingly ignored the Minister's grumbling, instead directing two silent Agents to clean up the documented spider drones and to get what shoddy holograms that could be gotten from the train's internal cameras.

"It is not quite obvious," the Inquisitor began, looking back at the politician. "First, most of the Jedi Order is killed by Order 66. Only a handful remain, some three hundred or so. Vader kills a good number of those by himself. The Inquisition, the Imperial Army and Navy, rogue Dark Force Adepts, bad circumstance - all these continue to whittle away at them.

"They were scattered for their very survival, Minister. Yet here at least three well trained Force Adepts, and a number of unknowns with combat training, attacked an Inquisition prison train carrying a Jedi Master."

He stopped, and regarded the quiet, scarred hulk of metal and transparisteel with a farseeing eye.

"At least three Jedi, but I suspect around five - had the resources to gather together not only themselves, but also several others who don't use the Force and yet still had combat training, a number of ships and shuttles to not only penetrate our defenses but also act as decoys. That requires time, organization, and money, which they should not have, if they are scattered, attempting to stay alive."

He shook his head slightly, and dismissed the droid.

"The Jedi never truly died. They are now coming back from the brink of annihilation."

[Amés Falcon Liszt]

Sir Amés glanced back in Atrapes direction with mild surprise. "Oh, I'm sorry. Had you finished your narrow-minded rambling?"

Most people were at least a little afraid of the Inquisitors, particularly given the part they had played in the rise to power of Empress Tarkin. But Sir Amés had no time for such concerns. Beyond the fact that he was a moderate and entrenched bureaucrat, there simply wasn't time for fretting in his busy schedule. At best, he managed to spare a few moments for mild distain.

He shook his head. "It's a good think you're full of so much hot air, Mister Atrapes. I'd hate to think you wasted all that breath."

"I am the Minister of the Interior," he explained. "Every significant report relating to the internal security of the Empire passes across my desk at some time or another. Rest assured: I understand the situation surrounding the Jedi quite well."

He sighed, and fell silent for a few moments, half hoping that the Inquisitor would actually ask for his input. Of course, that was a ridiculous pipe dream; an Inquisitor wouldn't ask for help even if he'd lost one arm and was hanging off a cliff by the fingertips of the other.

"I'm sure you are perfectly capable of handling this investigation yourself. Just as I'm sure you are perfectly capable of handling a simple prisoner transport without leaking information." He shrugged, ever so slightly. "If I weren't so sure however, I might point out that you're looking at the situation backwards. You're so hung up on hunting down your rogue Force-users that you're missing the big picture."

Another pause followed, but this time it was more to gather his thoughts; and perhaps a little for dramatic effect. "You assume that the Jedi have the resources to gather a cadre of non Force users. You're ignoring the possibility that it was in fact the non Force users with the resources to gather five Jedi together."

He frowned, adopting the sort of condescending tone that was usually reserved either for small children or members of the Stormtrooper Corps. "I wonder what group of non Force users might regularly deal with Jedi-in-exile, might have the resources to mount a raid on Imperial Center, and might for some reason have the motivation to embarass the Empire."

He offered another dismissive shake of his head.

"That's the problem with you Inquisitors: you spend so much time sculking around in the dark and shadows that you can't look at the simple answer, because it is too blindingly obvious."

[Vince]

crap. delete please!

[Rossos Atrapes]

"This wasn't about embarrassment, Minister," Atrapes said. "This was about the Jedi we had captured. Nothing more, nothing less. We simply happened to be holding her. If it had been the Hutts, or Black Sun, it would have made no difference."

The Minister's mien hadn't changed, but then Atrapes's hadn't either. The Inquisitor continued walking. Atrapes hadn't quite considered the Minister's place, and while he didn't relish the reminder of the fact that he had erroneously assumed superiority in this discussion with the politician, he took the lesson to heart.

"Any organisation would have written her off," he continued. "Or perhaps waited for more definite word of her whereabouts. The Rebels, despite this daring raid, are as likely to conduct another raid on Imperial Centre as they are to conquer another planet in the next standard month. The Jedi were the impetus behind it. They would have had to prove to the Rebellion that the rescue itself was not only worth the resources, but that Master Laran was worth the chances of failure."

He stopped, and watched as the blasted remnants of a spider drone were placed in a hover-cart, and pushed away, along with five others.

"The Rebellion agreed, Minister, to this raid, because they know they cannot win this war without the Jedi. The Jedi are the link. Their story, the memory of their peace and justice, as twisted as it has become because of the historical narrative the Empire has disseminated since its founding, lives on."

[Amés Falcon Liszt]

Used to every conversation being some kind of negotiation or diplomatic battle, the ever so subtle concession in the Inquisitor's tone did not go unnoticed. Neither did the Inquisitor's reminder that, no matter what the situation, they accepted help from no one: a response as alarming as it was familiar.

He didn't allow those diplomatic frustrations to distract him from the main crux of what Atrapes had said, however: something surprisingly articulate for a man who clearly had some sort of aversion to facial grooming.

"On that," he said, his tone not entirely losing it's disinterested edge, "We agree, Mister Atrapes. The Rebellion cannot win the war without the Jedi."

He paused, shooting a knowing look in Atrapes' direction. "Unfortunately for us, it seems that the Rebels already have the Jedi with them; which leaves us in something of a predicament."

[Rossos Atrapes]

"As long as the Jedi survive, the Empire, as it stands, is in a predicament," the Inquisitor responded as they came to the end of the dim tunnel and found the grey, mottled light of the Undercity welcoming them.

Around them activity began to flower, with droids and dark, silent agents milling around, gathering every bit of evidence that could be had from the area.

"The Rebellion has their Jedi, and thus to many of the more unruly and discontented populations, a true legitimacy to the Old Republic. What does the Empire have, Minister?"

[Amés Falcon Liszt]

"You."

It was a blunt and simple answer; not entirely accurate, but close enough for the context of their conversation. "We have the Inquisitors. We have the Imperial Guards. We have countless other nameless, faceless agencies who lurk in the shadows and surround themselves with mystery."

He shrugged. "It is of course the Tarkin Doctorine at it's finest; and far be it from me to question a political policy that has served us well for decades. But these agencies are uniquely Imperial, rather than artifacts of the Republic. They lack legitimacy: and without Vader or Palpatine, so too does the entire Empire."

Sir Amés was a man who always chose his words carefully, and usually did so as swiftly and effortlessly as breathing. This time however he allowed himself to pause before he continued: he wanted the reality of his observations to properly sink in before he spoke again.

"The clone armies may have decimated the Jedi Order, and the Inquisitors may have hunted the survivors ever since: but it was Darth Vader who was the figurehead of the Jedi Purge. If he had not been defeated, the Jedi exiles might never have dared ally against us."

He fixed Atrapes with a steady gaze. "No matter how effectively Palpatine managed to tarnish public opinion of the Jedi Order, he cannot undo history. For thousands of years, the Galactic Republic relied on the Jedi Order as guardians and leaders; and if the Rebel Alliance has the support of Force-wielding Knights and we do not, that is a grain of legitimacy we cannot afford to let them have."

[Rossos Atrapes]

"Indeed not."

The Minister had given voice to a conclusion Atrapes had been aware of since he'd come to Imperial Centre, and had been slowly building up even before then. Countless lost leads, dead civilians holding the knowledge of the hidden Jedi, empty ships and coffins rooted through for every last scrap of evidence and knowledge that the Order had left behind: all of those had pointed the way to this conclusion, though long the road had been.

It struck him that the Inquisitors were much like children, searching through their parents' empty home, looking for any sign of their existence. And, just like children, they burned as much as they kept. He did not say that feeling aloud.

"The Jedi are still mostly a secret to the galaxy at large; perhaps even more so than the Inquisition. If we can establish a rival Order before they can reveal themselves, the Jedi will have to be the ones to prove themselves to the galaxy," Atrapes said, leading the Minister to the body of an Inquisitorial Agent, speared through by a broken railing. It had been Thanewulf's doing; a Force Push, despite it's simplicity, could be deadly.

[Amés Falcon Liszt]

"An intreguing notion," Amés agreed.

He frowned a little - though mostly for show; a man of infinite preparation, it was hardly as if he hadn't already considered the concept extensively. "Unfortunately, that flies in the face of current Inquisitor policy, as I'm sure you're well aware..."

He turned to face Atrapes directly, his arms folding across his chest. "And it isn't like there are any other untapped caches of Force wielding loyalists skulking about the place. You Inquisitors are somewhat all-or-nothing in your monopoly on Force users."

[Rossos Atrapes]

Atrapes almost grinned at the Minister's last remark; but instead he merely drew them away from the body. One less Force Adept, but this one had been an Imperial asset.

"We are," the Inquisitor agreed. "It is our mission to either bring them into the Empire or to destroy them. Whether they are of the Inquisition or not is not an issue. The Imperial Hands are still in existence, though much diminished. There are some within the Imperial Security Bureau, though they are not trained enough for their abilities to be of much use."

Atrapes signalled an Agent and off-handedly ordered a speeder to come and ferry him to the train control room.

"But there are thousands untapped outside Imperial institutions. As well as some within the Army and Navy. The Inquisition is a trained beast, Minister. But this beast is no hound. It is a trained cat, meant to be alone, nearly self sufficient. If kept too long on a leash, as it will if it continues to be enforcer of the Empress's will, it will hurt the Empire as much as it aids it. Inquisition policy was made with this in mind. Either the Inquisition must remake itself, or it must go back to the shadows."

From Atrapes's tone, it was clear he preferred for it to return to the shadows.

"What the Empress, and no less the Empire itself needs, is a Hound. A loyal, outspoken enforcer, a noble and admirable institution, one which does not shun the light of day but in fact needs it to perform its duties. A pool of likely candidates - Force users in Imperial institutions - can be made quite easily. Drawn from the Inquisition, the Hands, and the other Imperial institutions, we can have a sizeable, and importantly, a viable organisation in short order."