Chapter 76 (1/2)

Coruscant, Coruscant System
Corusca Sector

Barriss Offee returned to that hidden courtyard in the Room of a Thousand Fountains, immersed in the life energy of the Force, brimming and trembling in the air. It didn’t seem all too long ago that she took her first true steps against the Republic, infiltrating a GAR satellite, then engaging in unauthorised talks with the Separatists. Plotting for the downfall of the current government. 

The Sith government, she reminded herself.

Iskat had been right, the gardens scattered throughout the Jedi Temple were perfect recluses to sojourn and gather their thoughts, a vibrant scatter of green and plenty in a cold, desolate cityscape. Many of them were hidden places, known to only the perishingly few Jedi who considered them safe spaces, or maintenance staff who tended the grounds. Barriss found it pleasing to stalk through them like a wraith, leaving no trace of her presence save for some freshly weeded flower beds.

At the very least, it would make the rounds of those greenskeepers just a tiny bit more painless.

But of all places Barriss found eager to sojourn herself in her spare time, she wouldn’t consider Iskat’s hidden courtyard in the Room of Thousand Fountains among her top choices. But she was there, not because she was seeking peace of mind–though she desperately needed it–but because she had a job to do. Weeding the flower beds.

She looked around. Willow trees still rustled in the artificial breeze, and distant brooks still gurgled cheerfully with the birds. Little had changed since her last visit, and yet… somehow everything had. It felt like only a week ago all she could hear was fears of the Perlemian Coalition and their rampage through the Core Worlds–and now? The Battle Hydra is dead. Gone to the abyss with all of his dreadful warships.

Barriss could scarcely believe it.

Barriss wasn’t quite sure if she did even now. Even as he fell, their warfleets still him–she’d more likely believe he’s conquering the hell he ended up in with them. She wouldn’t put it past him.

An odd glint of red pulled her eye–an exposed wire, strung from an open panel in the wall. She swept the premises again, and came across a familiar tuft of pale fur. The Selonian techie, Heezo, sleeping under a willow tree with his cap pulled down over his eyes and a mouse droid in his lap.

“Sleeping on the job?” the moment she called out, he startled awake guiltily and then grinned at her, showing his pointy little teeth.

“It’s a tireless, thankless job,” his hands moved instinctively, one reaching for his tool kit and the other flipping the mouse droid around, “If nobody notices me gone, it means I’m doing my job right.”

“I can imagine that,” Barriss made a round of the courtyard, fingers brushing right above the ivy wall-growths, “Iskat was here?”

Heezo bobbed his head, “She was called away for some planetside mission.”

“Oh?”

“Compound raid, from the looks,” he clarified, with a sense of pride, like a father speaking of his child–or a master praising their apprentice, “She’s leading a strike team of clone shock troopers against a Separatist terrorist hideout in the Manarai Uplift.”

Did she tell you that, Barriss wondered, or did you overhear?

“A mission from Master Gallia, I presume.”

The Selonian shrugged, “Maybe.”

Only Master Gallia would know to give Iskat Akaris such bloody work. And the girl’s built for it. Barriss visibly stilled, mulling over the information. Master Gallia must have had a reason for it–to keep her away from the Jedi Temple? Iskat was a liability, and Barriss was still unsure of why Master Gallia allowed her to join the mission to Empress Teta. Maybe sending her planetside was a way to keep Iskat occupied with other matters? Or was there perhaps something the Master needed in the Manarai Uplift?

“Did she say anything else?” Barriss asked bluntly.

Heezo’s fur rippled, “Nothing.”

A lie. She could feel it in the air. A confidant did wonders for the mind and soul–especially if it was a confidant held in trust–but it was also a weakness. There was a reason why Masters were so insistent Knights and Padawans confided in them and only them. Loose lips sink ships, it was told.

Barriss told him as such, “You could do better.”

Heezo gave the soft growl that she recognised as a tired sigh, “Some personal worries. Nothing important.”

“I’m her friend,” Barriss found it easy to sound indignant, “And any friend of hers is a friend of mine. Tell me; it’s something to do with the latest mission, isn’t it?”

A light dawned in his catlike eyes, “She did mention you were with her.”

“Let me guess,” Barriss leaned down and jabbed her fingers into the soil, tearing out a weed, “The Jedi Masters made an agreement with a contact–before betraying them immediately afterwards.”

As soon as she uttered those words, it was as if the artificial climate sensors malfunctioned, the light breeze stealing away and leaving behind a stagnant, suffocating humidity. 

“...She had a lot more to say than just that,” Heezo murmured, confirming her suspicions.

Barriss’ expression flattened, away from his view. That girl… Master Gallia put her in my care; I will have to speak to Iskat. As soon as the thought passed, however, the Mirialan plastered an indignant look on her face and swung around, crushing the weeds in a fist.

“Don’t get me started on that,” she growled, letting the crushed weeds fall to the ground, “The Masters preach faith and trust, compassion and sympathy, and yet it seems those rules they enforce don’t apply to themselves. Did Iskat tell you the specifics?”

“Nothing like that,” Heezo said quickly, “Not even the names of the Masters.”

The truth. Barriss wrapped the Force around her fingers, wielding it like invisible threads branching through the space. It seems I underestimated Iskat. A part of her felt bad for thinking the worst of her friend–because Iskat was her friend. Barriss had no ulterior motives about that. It was just that… sometimes, friendship could be a weakness too.

“There were two,” Barriss said easily, and Heezo’s eyes widened when he realised what she was about to do. He did not interrupt her, “One was Master Adi Gallia, the other was Master Plo Koon.”

“Master Plo?” Heezo couldn’t quite conceal the surprise in his voice.

She found a bench opposite him and sat down, huffing, “It was a Loyalist informant in the Perlemian Coalition’s Armada.”

“...So that was how Master Plo was able to track the Hydra to Rendili so quickly,” Heezo whispered, “But that means–”

“We were at Empress Teta,” she confirmed, “And the informant was in the Coalition Armada when Master Plo arrived–and fired upon it without a second thought.”

Heezo paused, then gently set down the mouse droid, “I hate to say this, but that’s not the worst thing I’ve heard. It’s war, and war is messy. These things happen… and I’m sure the informant knew what he was getting into.”

Barriss stared at him, forcing the Selonian to meet her gaze, “Do you believe that? The Masters certainly gave the informant their reassurement.”

“Well–” the Selonian started, “I mean… I’ve been in this Temple for forty years, longer than most Councilmembers have been on their seats. I’ve heard and seen a lot of things. Entire populations die because the Council choses to ‘wait and see,’ because Knights are sent to the planets with the loudest senators instead of the loudest screams. The Jedi Order has always been willing to sacrifice.”

“But they pretend that they’re not,” Barriss retorted, “Until they do, and then that’s alright because ‘it’s for the greater good.’ It’s all so hypocritical, don’t you think? I think so, and I’m sure Iskat does too.”

She looked around. Even though they were alone in the courtyard, protected by high walls and the constant drone of nature all around them, she was still careful about speaking so freely. The Room of a Thousand Fountains were large, and it was easy to get lost in its vastness, but the gardens were still free to all.

Heezo chuckled, “You’re preaching to the choir. You’re no stranger to it either, I’m sure. This war has taken its toll on the galaxy, the Jedi most of all, ever since the start. What about Jabiim, where Obi-Wan Kenobi abandoned our allies the moment that battle was lost. Or Bassadro, where the Empatojayos Brand purposely fired upon a civilian mining settlement to root out an enemy entrenchment. Or Yag’Dhul, where Anakin Skywalker lost the battle by chasing after a personal glory trying to capture Asajj Ventress? Compared to all that–a single informant really isn’t all that big of a deal.”

Barriss stood up measuredly, homing in towards the open wall panel and analysing the neatly arranged wiring inside. There was a control box too, acting as a nexus point for all the cables, gleaming with buttons and inputs. The Force called her to it, but it was useless–she was no techie, and she couldn’t make heads or tails of it.

“I wouldn’t touch any of that,” the technician warned, “Wouldn’t want anything to go bad… not that it would be on your head.”

It would be on mine, was left unsaid.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” she lied, shaking her head, “Likewise… I hope you keep this conversation under wraps. You don’t report to Mace Windu, do you?”

She glanced back at him, and Heezo met her eyes, nose wrinkling, “That’d be weird, why would I? I report to Jopar Tandil in Tech Management.”

That wasn’t a lie, at least–but not the full truth either. She could sense that in the Force very clearly.

“That’s good to hear,” she traced the outline of the panel with a tattooed finger, “You better finish this up and put all of it back in. Wouldn’t want anyone to see it.”

She heard a grunt as the Selonian stood up, rising to his full two metre height–towering far above her. As he came up behind her, Heezo bent down to pick up the fallen wall panel and fix it back into place.

“So how does all of this work?” she asked suddenly.

The Selonian shot her a side-eye as he carefully aligned the edges, “Most Jedi aren’t interested about this sort of thing.”

“Am I like most Jedi?”

Heezo released a low purr, fur rustling, which she took as amusement, “It’s a whole system, not just in the Room of a Thousand Fountains but the whole Temple. There’s a bunch of parameters imputed in; temperature, humidity, pressure, the like. Hidden sensors work together to read all the variables, and this little box here mashes them together to give staff like me something to work with. It’s just that here in the garden… trying to keep all of these plants and animals alive requires somewhat regular on-site intervention.”

“Huh…” Barriss mused, “Who did you report to again?”

“What?” Heezo pushed the last corner into place, the whole tile fitting into the wall with a satisfying click, “I told you, it’s–”

“Nevermind, I’ll figure it out myself,” Barriss’ hand shot up to his neck.

Heezo attempted to defend himself–perhaps it was some of that former Jedi training kicking in–but he was decades out of practice and Barriss was a young Jedi Knight. The old Selonian had barely lifted his arm when she sent a pulse of the Force into his baroreceptors, dilating his blood vessels and cutting off supply to the brain. In less than a second, the staff technician was limp in her arms.

Gently setting the man on the floor, Barriss looked over to the benches, where she spotted the mouse droid–still deactivated–dormant on the ground. After a moment of thought, she reached out with the Force and crumpled it like a metal can, before pulling it towards her. With the courtyard cleaned up, she fished out her comlink and sent–

‘Found the mole.’

Barriss left the garden, leaving no trace save for some freshly weeded flower beds.

⁂

Master Adi Gallia’s scepticism was justified, if rather ironic.

“You are certain this is the Delta Source?”

After all, how could a mere staff technician be the mole supplying the Sith Lord with the closest secrets of the Jedi Order? And yet, was that very thought not arrogance? The oh-so very Jedi-like belief that their Order was uncompromisable, much less by a mere dropout apprentice?

“If not the Delta Source,” Barriss crossed her arms, “Then at least one branch of it.”

“We don’t even know what the Delta Source is, might I point out,” Bode Akuna said sharply, “If it’s a person, an organisation or persons, droids, or some sort of surveillance system. We simply don’t know.”

Master Gallia looked at Barriss pointedly, “Remind me, how did you figure out that this man is a spy?”

“He knew about the Anakin Skywalker acting in the Battle of Llon Nebula,” Barriss shrugged, “I figured anybody who knew about that knew about the Delta Source–and is either feeding it or being fed by it. Or he could have simply eavesdropped on the High Council; I don’t know how widespread that information is in the Temple.”

“No…” the Jedi Master murmured, “You’re right that only the High Council should know about that–in the Temple at least. But it’s not solid evidence. Do you have any other proof?”

The Mirialan shrugged again, “I had a feeling.”

“You know, for a Jedi that’s par for the course,” Bode snapped his fingers, “Back to the Delta Source; Master, how much closer are we to figuring out what that thing is?”

“Not by much,” Master Gallia sighed forcefully, “We’re making sweeps. The maintenance corridors, the droids, the electrical systems–but it’s slow work. We can’t be too obvious as we go about it; for one it might alert the Sith Lord, and because it wouldn’t do to cause alarm in the Temple, especially at such a crucial time.”

As Adi Gallia and Bode Akuna continued their discussion into sourcing the Delta Source, which Barriss found herself truly out of her depth in, the Mirialan Knight turned to the fourth and final member of their little party. Iskat Akaris, silent as stone and tracking the rise and fall of Heezo’s chest as his unconscious form laid on the funeral altar. 

Because it wouldn’t look good for Barriss if she was caught dragging around a two-metre tall Selonian through the populated halls of the Jedi Temple, and this funeral chamber was the only place she could reliably trek to through the narrow and maze-like maintenance shafts.

“This can’t be right…” there was a glaze of disbelief and anger in Iskat’s eyes, though at whom that anger was directed at Barriss did not know. Iskat’s volatile emotions were wild and unfocused, and Barriss had a feeling Iskat herself did not know either.

“It might not be,” Barriss told her friend lowly, though it was poor consolation, “I was acting on suspicion.”

Iskat’s eyes flashed, and in that split second her anger was focused. At Barriss.

“Were you using me to get close to him?” the red-skinned alien hissed, “Did you become my ‘friend’ to chase after your suspicions?”

“I did not know Heezo existed until you brought me to him,” Barriss told her honestly, and when Iskat’s expression fell she knew the girl had sensed that she was telling the truth.

The original suspicion was you, Barriss wanted to say, and it might still be. 

Master Adi Gallia abruptly ended the exchange, stepping forward with the swiftness of a predator and pressing her palm to Heezo’s forehead. In an instant, the Selonian’s eyes flickered open, dazed and disoriented, the fog of unconsciousness slowly lifting as he blinked at his surroundings.

“What–” he began, his voice hoarse as he tried to sit up. But the sharp clank of stuncuffs jerking him back down, the weight of his body slamming into the cold, unyielding stone of the altar with a harsh thud. His confusion turned to alarm as he strained against the manacles, only to find them immovable.

Swivelling his neck around, Heezo took the sight of them in–and the moment he saw Barriss, a dark light of understanding gleamed in his slitted eyes. 

“You are staff technician Heezo,” Master Gallia told him, “Is that correct?”

“I am,” Heezo confirmed, “Forgive me, Master, but I am rather confused as to why–”

“Alright then, Heezo,” Master Gallia brusquely cut him off, “May I know who you report to?”

Frustration creased his forehead, “Jopar Tandil in Tech Management. Master, I don’t–”

“Anybody else?”

“Nobody else! You can ask him yourself if you–” Heezo swivelled his neck around, catching Iskat in the corner of his eye, “Iskat! Tell them! I’m just a staff technician!”

Iskat remained silent, cautiously observing the exchange.

“I did ask Jopar Tandil,” Master Gallia said, “And he seems to back up your claim.”

“Master– Master Gallia, I don’t see why I must be–” Heezo’s hackles were raised now, his fur standing on end.

“From where did you hear about Anakin Skywalker pursuing Asajj Ventress in the Battle of Yag’Dhul?” the Tholothian Master snapped.

Heezo’s jaw shut with a click, eyes wild and wide. 

“Answer the question, Heezo,” Barriss requested softly.

“You… You tricked me,” the Selonian muttered, looking around frantically again.

“The only way you’re leaving is by answering the Master’s questions, Heezo,” Iskat told him, not unkindly, “Just answer them, and we can put this behind us. I’m not any happier about this than you are.”

“...I’m just a– I’ve been around the Temple a lot,” the staff technician admitted, “I overhear a lot of things. I’m a Selonian; I can’t help it.”

His feline ears twitched and swivelled, as if to make a point.

“I need names, Heezo,” the Jedi Master softened, “Did you hear from a Jedi Master, or someone else? A fellow techie? Tell me their names, and we can investigate further.”

Heezo hesitated, and he hesitated just a moment too long.

“It was Master Klefan–”

“A lie,” Barriss immediately shot it down, switching tracks, “Who is your master?”

Heezo’s jaw shut again, sealing tight.

“We can force you to speak, man,” Bode Akuna said, exasperated, “Make this easy for all of us, and we won’t have to kick your doors open.”

The Selonian cast one last pleading look at Iskat, but once he realised he would find no purchase with her, he reluctantly righted his head, eyes fixing on a spot on the dark stone ceiling. It was clear any more answers will have to be forced out of him. Master Gallia’s shoulders fell, and she wasted no time outstretching her hand. The Force rippled the air, warping the empty space between them like a heat wave.

“Tell me the name of your master,” the Jedi Master commanded, prying at his mental doors.

Heezo’s jaw clenched, but said nothing.

“The Sith Lord wouldn’t choose agents who would break so easily,” Bode cracked his knuckles idly, 

“Barriss,” Master Gallia immediately employed the aid of their empath, “Help me out.”

The Mirialan in question obeyed silently, closing her eyes and reaching out an arm towards their victim. Barriss extended her arm, her fingers trembling slightly as she reached out with the Force, feeling for Master Gallia’s presence there. Together, they plunged into the murky depths of Heezo’s mind. It was like stepping into a darkened corridor, walls slick and slippery with secrets, the air thick with resistance. Every thought felt like it was wrapped in shadow, locked behind doors that groaned under their mental pressure. Barriss could feel Heezo’s muted panic, a flurry of emotions rising up like a storm, but they were distant, faint–he was well-trained, either by himself or by the Sith Lord, walls of mental discipline erected around his memories.

“Tell us the name of your master,” they commanded together.

Heezo released a sound–a mix between a whimper and a groan–and Barriss could sense Iskat nervously fidget beside her.

“Heezo,” Barriss whispered, “Any more of this and your mind will crack open like an egg, spilling out what’s inside. And we won’t be able to put it back in. None of us wants that.”

The air hung in stasis as Barriss and Master Gallia prepared to prod even further, Iskat tensing as she watched her friend writhe under the mental torture. Barriss could feel the tremor in her fingertips as she dug deeper, each push closer to his core like pulling apart the sinew of his thoughts, exposing the raw nerve underneath. The atmosphere in the chamber became oppressive–so dense it was almost suffocating. A pulse of desperation surged through the Selonian, a final attempt to shield his secrets, but it only emboldened the Jedi Master. Gallia’s voice echoed through the Force like a distant rumble of thunder.

“Tell us the name of your master!”

“Lord Sidious!” Heezo gasped violently,

“Sidious,” Bode latched on, “That’s the one. Ask him what’s the Delta Source!”

“I don’t know!” Heezo struggled, full blown panic setting in, “I don’t know what’s a Delta Source! I swear! I only know what Lord Sidious tells me!”

“He’s telling the truth,” Barriss quickly informed duly.

Bode gnashed his teeth in frustration, “Then how do you contact Sidious!? It can’t be from within the Temple; all outward communications are monitored!”

All communications are!? Barriss hardly had time to even comprehend the massive breach in privacy.

The Selonian clenched his jaw tighter, beads of sweat now forming on his furrowed brow, every muscle straining in resistance. Barriss felt the feedback from his panic flooding into her mind—hot, sharp, and wild. His memories swirled chaotically like a storm of jagged glass, and she could hear his heartbeat hammering in her ears; a frantic, erratic rhythm that reverberated through the Force. 

“Give it up, Heezo!” Adi Gallia ordered, “You don’t want to die this way! How do you contact Lord Sidious!?”

Heezo’s eyes were squeezed shut, his sharp teeth grinding against each other.

“Heezo,” Iskat breathed, “Please.”

Master Gallia shot Barriss a look, and Barriss breathed in. One last push. The pressure became unbearable. Barriss felt as though she was pushing her fingers into a blister, the skin stretched tight, ready to burst. 

And then came the give. Like slamming against a bolted door just as the hinges snapped.

Heezo screamed.

“The Works!” he shouted, his spine arching in agony, pinned down to the altar, “I meet him in the Works!”

Master Gallia abruptly spun around on her heel, clasping Bode on the shoulder before stalking away.

“Bring him to the Temple Detention Centre and get me the specifics,” she ordered, “I’m summoning the High Council to authorise and form a Jedi strike team as soon as possible.”