Quinlain Vos didn't see the Jedi Temple on Coruscant very often, these days. He was, after all, a field agent and, while that had its perks, it definitely had some major drawbacks too. He didn't get a lot of time off, but when he did, he was to report into the Jedi Temple for mind-healing sessions, as undercover missions tended to require.

(He didn't want to admit that Jedi in his position probably didn't get enough mind-healing sessions as he rather disliked going to them, but even he had to admit that they helped. Undercover Knights and even Masters tended to have to cope one way or another. Although, even with the mind-healing sessions, they tended to become… eccentric. He knew he was already getting a reputation. Most of it was the typical temple gossip making its rounds, but he didn't see much of a point in dissuading it. Reputations could be useful. And if he'd developed healthy – or even semi-healthy – coping mechanisms, well, he was a firm believer in not trying to fix what wasn't broken.)

He honestly had mixed feelings about the repercussions and requirements coming from his general field of work, just as he had mixed feelings about the Temple. Unlike other Jedi, he was allowed his own ship, mainly for his cover identities. (He actually had about three of them, and could get more, depending on what impression he wanted to make.) But, unlike other Jedi, he didn't have constant access to meditation areas or the Room of a Thousand Fountains, or training salls. He didn't deal with the constant presence of multiple other Force users in a confined area, even one as large as the Temple… for good and ill. Being back at the Temple felt like coming home – like a balm to his soul. It also felt restricting in many ways and it didn't take long for him to find himself itching to get back out into the field just to get away again. It could make him a little twitchy, which only added to his reputation.

Still, he tried to appreciate his time at the Temple. He really did. Often, while in the field, he longed to come back to the peace and safety that was the Jedi Temple, and he knew that in only a few short weeks, he'd be out tracking down one low-life or another, dodging blaster bolts while trying not to give himself away as a Jedi. It was a fine thread to walk. Sometimes he enjoyed walking it. Other times, it just made him feel tired. He tried to focus on that latter emotion as it helped him feel the peace of the Temple and appreciate it more. He wasn't sure how well he was succeeding as he walked down the large halls of the building, ignoring looks he got from a good 70% of the people he passed. If he ran across someone he needed (or wanted) to speak to, he'd stop. Until then, they just didn't (couldn't) matter.

Eventually, he realized his coping mechanism to focus on how tiring his job could be wasn't working at the moment, so he switched to thinking of something else. He'd recently been to see his mind-healer, Healer Lako, and couldn't help but ponder on how different the session had seemed than normal. It wasn't anything too noticeable, but he'd seen a definite shift towards the more practical when it came to the healer's words of advice, perspective and coping suggestions. He wondered if that had to do with the outside healer they'd recently brought in for the slave-kid Obi-wan had rescued. He'd spoken to the knight briefly about the situation the last time he'd been at the temple over a year ago. He hadn't expected the Council to actually bring in an outside healer (or even admit that the Temple wasn't equipped for something), let alone to have that healer make such an impact on the other Mind-healers. If that were the case… but he'd bet his psychometry on it.

Honestly, he couldn't see the general development as a bad thing in the long run.

And while still constricting in many ways, the Temple felt different too. Freer somehow. He couldn't put his finger on it and had decided he needed to find a gossip source to begin piecing this puzzle together.

He also needed to spend time with his padawan, who was not allowed to go on most of his (admittedly rather dangerous) missions at this point, despite the length of time he tended to be away. Instead, she stayed and took classes from the normal teachers and had similar specialized training sessions that Quin had had at that age too. Maybe he could talk the Council around to letting him take Aayla with him this time, though. She was getting old enough and needed some in-field training.

He'd just begun to put his proposal to the Council together in his head when someone calling his name brought him out of his musings. He'd felt the presence, but hadn't really registered the signature as they weren't particularly close, but she had been in some of his specialized training classes and in their field, there wasn't really any avoiding knowing each other. Besides, her master was a Council member, so she tended to have a little more interaction with him than others younger than him.

Turning to face the presence, he couldn't help but smile. She'd been a permanent resident of the Healer's wing the last time he'd seen her.

"Siri," he said, making sure he looked just a tad goofy, but didn't hide any of the relief he felt. Seeing her out and about like this definitely lifted his spirits.

She sent her own, undoubtedly just as calculated, smile to him as she approached. Still, he had no doubt she was happy to see him. Seeing any undercover field agent back in the Temple was always a relief.

"I see you managed to stay alive," she said with a wry grin and a raised eyebrow.

His own smile widened. "You're not lucky enough to get rid of me that easily."

She snorted. Then her face softened. "How've you been?" she asked.

He shrugged nonchalantly. "Not much to say." AKA, not much he could say. Missions like his tended to be classified. He could be vague though. "Had a couple of nasty run-ins with nasty people on nasty planets. You know, the same old, same old."

Her snort this time was less a snort and more an amused grunt. "Well, it's still good to see you back here," she said, still grinning. Then her eyes flicked to the side, down a lesser used hall. So, she had a reason for approaching him. Huh. Had probably sought him out. Not that he minded. Tachi had a good head on her shoulders and tended to be good company. Although she seemed more… mellow, than she had the last time he remembered speaking to her. Not as abrasive.

Deciding to play along, he turned down the hall and she fell into step beside him. "I'm glad to see you out of the healer's wing," he said. "How long have you been out now?"

"Almost a year," she replied, an air of palpable relief around her. He didn't blame her. Little was worse than being stuck in the med-wing. "The Council has begun to send me on missions again. On my own, even. Nothing major," she sighed, her countinance gaining some definite melancholy, "but it's a step in the right direction."

He allowed a little wince to show. He knew how hard undercover training could be, and her bout in the med-wing had more or less thrown a good chunk of it out the window. There was no way the Council would send her on mentally taxing undercover missions if she had relapses and episodes. He didn't look at her as he put a hand on her shoulder, although he could feel the gratefulness she sent towards him

"But," he said, side-eyeing her with a raised eyebrow, "I have a feeling you're about to ask me for something. Will this be an 'interesting' request, or one that will make me wish I'd just stayed away?"

She had the good grace to look sheepish. "Well, a little bit of both."

His other eyebrow joined the first as he looked over at her. "Both?"

Siri shrugged and scratched the side of her head. She was almost looking apologetic… he really wasn't sure what to think with that kind of emotion showing, but it wasn't good.

"I need a worm."

He frowned. "You're decent with software, programming and slicing." She had to be with their training. Although she hadn't been gifted, per se, she had to be competent.

She looked like she appreciated his comment, but still shook her head. "Not to the level I need. Your programs were works of art though. That's why I need you, Quin. Here are the specifications," she said, handing him a flimsy. "Burn that when you're done."

So the Council didn't know about this…? His mind brushed over her comment earlier on how they hadn't sent her on anything 'major'… With his gloved hand, he took the flimsy from her, not bothering to hide his wariness, then studied the list. His eyes widened again.

"For a personal comm?" he asked.

She nodded, biting her lip. And looking almost… mischievous. Was this for a prank? No… it couldn't be. This was far more malicious than that.

"Whose comm?" he asked, frowning. This might be getting into 'nope' territory here.

Siri regarded him for several seconds before finally deciding to tell him something. "Someone in the Senate."

His eyes almost bugged out of their sockets. Not many people could do that to him. Obi-wan, sometimes. Depa, rarely. Siri, though… he really should have known. So much for being more mellow.

"With something like this you could cause an inter-planetary incident," he said cautiously and preparing to stand his ground. He had every right to be suspicious with this.

"Oh, no," she said, shaking her head, "nothing like that. I'm just planning on starting some… petty psychological warfare."

His frown flattened and he held up the flimsy, now folded so no one could see it. "This is not just petty."

"Okay, so it has larger ramifications than that, but I need this, Quin. Please." And there came what felt like the umpteenth surprise from her in as many minutes, because Siri didn't ask. Not with that tone in her voice. It was almost begging. Siri never begged.

He took a deep breath. "Do I want to know?" he asked.

The apologetic look came back. "It's not my secret to tell."

He felt his face go blank as he studied her. So she was doing this for someone else… in defense of someone else if he'd read her tone right. His life depended on his ability to read tones right. He looked down at the flimsy. That wouldn't be a small favor. This would take time and effort to write. He'd have to get… creative. Good thing he excelled at that. Too bad she knew it.

Just a couple more questions before he could decide. "Will this put the Temple in danger?"

"Not if you write it well enough."

So, something she didn't want to implicate the Temple in. That was… actually a load off of his mind.

"Will it put you in danger?"

She shook her head. "Not after the initial delivery. Even then, with enough planning, I should be fine." Hmm, not the best, but at least she'd been thinking about it.

"Will this put anyone else in danger?"

Her grin was practically savage. "Only the target."

He closed his eyes, feeling a headache beginning to build.

"And the target is?" He had to ask.

Somehow her expression just grew sharper. "What if I told you it was a Sith Lord?"

Aaaand that took the cake! Either this was a well played prank, or… well, he didn't really want to think about the ramifications. A Sith? In the Senate? How?! Who? Why was she planning on trying to put a worm on his comm link instead of, you know, leading an army of Jedi against him? Or her. In his experience women could be just as ruthless – more so, even – than men. Or them, perhaps? No, his mind was trying to distract itself. Focus.

He snorted and grinned at her. "Nice one, Tachi."

She smiled too, although she didn't look nearly so… Kriff! Was she serious?!

"I really do need that worm."

He dropped his smile as he looked down at the flimsy again, staring at it like it was poisonous as his mind raced through all of the scenarios he could think of. Somehow, he got the feeling he wasn't even close. That… was terrifying.

Welp, looked like he'd spend the next several hours meditating.

And preparing.

"I'm going to want to upgrade my weapons store, aren't I."

She didn't answer. She didn't need to. He hadn't said it as a question.

"And prepare some untraceable boltholes."

"Might come in handy."

"Kriff."

"Don't tell anyone."

He couldn't help but outright stare at her with that. "What?" he asked, as calmly as he could.

"I told you because I know you can keep a secret. Don't worry, Master Yoda and Yaddle are in the know."

"Are they part of this?" he asked, pointing to the flimsy.

Sheepish came back.

Double kriff. And frip. And stang. And Sithspit… no, maybe that wasn't the best line of curses to go down at the moment.

"Siri…" he started, warning.

"I'll let them know," she assured him.

"Once you deliver it?" he asked dryly.

"Well…"

"Kriff it, Siri! You let me know that…" he paused when he noticed his voice getting a little loud and glanced around, "that the age-old ultimate enemy of the Jedi has somehow returned, right under our noses, and infiltrated the Senate and you want to play games with his comm unit?"

Then he went over that thought and felt the blood drain from his face. With the kind of security she wanted to bypass with her worm, and the specifications… this wasn't a low-level worker or servant they were going after.

"They're one of the senators."

Siri started to look a little nervous. "I've already said too much."

He felt sick. What kind of damage could a Sith as a senator do? And just how did Siri find out? Oh, this was why he didn't want to know! He shouldn't have asked! Stupid training. Stupid curiosity. Stupid survival instincts that urged him to push for more information! He'd probably be grateful he had tomorrow. Or next week. But right now…

"Please tell me we're preparing for the worst outcome," he finally said, pleading a little himself and rubbing the bridge of his nose. It wasn't helping.

Her smile almost hid the slight wince. Almost.

Nope. There weren't curse words bad enough to describe this.

"The Council doesn't know yet. They… won't believe us without hard proof."

"Which is why you need the worm," he muttered. "And if you get a few psychological hits in on the side…"

She rubbed the back of her neck and looked away. "I thought you'd believe me more if I told you it was for the hits to begin with."

Well, with what she'd been through, he supposed she'd have to become more self aware, although he couldn't help but be a little impressed. She'd always been one of those who could be very good at deceiving themselves.

He sighed again and rubbed at his temples. "I don't know how Master Gallia survived having you for a Padawan. I couldn't."

She went from unsure to almost cocky in a second, far too fast for at least some of what she'd been showing him to not be faked. Ugh. He'd known she'd gotten good, but this good?

"I'll take that as a compliment," she said, every inch of her the old Siri he remembered. Somehow, that made him want to head to his room and hide under his bed for a while. Like he used to when he was little, just after he'd come to the Temple and the night-terrors and nightmares had been so bad he could barely sleep at all.

This felt like a nightmare. Surreal (Sith? Worms for Senate comms? Really?) and potentially dangerous all at the same time.

"Fine!" he finally said, "Fine, I'll get you one. And it will be the best fripping worm this galaxy has ever seen. Then I'm going to take my Padawan, whether the Council likes it or not, and high-tail it to the other end of the Galaxy. Maybe the Unknown regions, and I'm going to teach her how to disappear!"

She nodded sagely and chose not to say anything else. Which was good. He wasn't sure he could handle anything else at the moment.

Except he'd thought that too soon.

"Good. Then maybe she won't get shot down by her own troops," Siri practically whispered, with a thousand-mile stare that… Oh.

Oh.

Visions.

And she had to get proof.

That made sense… except, what the kriff did she mean, 'her own troops'?

Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all… Was Siri in her right mind?

She blinked, and lucidity returned to her eyes as she smiled up at him. So fake it almost hurt to look at.

"Anyway, let me know when it's done. And I owe you one."

"Oh, you do," he agreed, maybe a touch hysterically. "You owe me big time."

Then, to his surprise, she leaned forward and hugged him. "It's good to see you again, Quin. Don't ever change, k?"

Why did that feel so… deep? Like she had so much more she wanted to say but didn't know how to say it? Not that he knew how to ask. Not in the mental state he was in at the moment. But the hug… helped. Normally he didn't like people touching him, but from Siri… maybe they were closer than he'd realized. Siblings through shared experiences and shared training and traumatizing events. She really had changed, even if she was still the same old, brash Siri she'd always been.

He didn't count many people as friends. But not many people accepted him as he was, or looked past his facade to see the real Jedi underneath. Not many people would let him in on a monumental secret like that simply because they trusted him. Then again, Siri had never been like 'many people'.

"Keep in touch while you're here," she said as she turned back the way they'd come. "I'd like to introduce you to Anakin."

Anakin.

"Wait, isn't that the name of the kid Obi-wan rescued?"

"Yup!" she said with a grin. "Thanks again!"

And then she was gone, walking away and down the hall with fast, purposeful strides.

And he hadn't even gotten anything from the actual gossip ring from her.

Ugh. Somehow, he knew this evening would be very long.

xXx

Granta Omega looked over the plans on his holopad for the umpteenth time and scowled. He'd spent years – over a decade, even – setting things up and he still didn't have everything in place that he needed. Actually, with the losses he'd taken on Nar Shaada…

He shook his head, lamenting the fact that he hadn't pulled out of the slaving ring earlier. He didn't even like slaving rings, no matter how profitable they could be. But he'd needed the money… money he didn't have access to anymore. Which means he didn't have information about some of the planets he needed for this all to work… to set up for his long term endgame.

It would have been so poetic too. With just enough irony sprinkled in to make it delectable. Now, he may not have that option at all. Of course, the information may open up to him at some point in the future anyway, but it was far less certain.

So now he had two options: First, he could follow his original plan and wait a couple of years to enact everything, or he could settle for something potentially less poetic and simply act at the first available opportunity. It would be easier to avenge his father down the second path, if only for simplicity's sake.

And maybe that had been part of his father's problem. The drama, the poetic justice, the satisfaction

He wouldn't know.

Qui-gon Jinn and Obi-wan Kenobi had robbed him of his ability to get to know – or even make a good guess – about his father – about the man they killed. He didn't know everything about what had happened, but he knew enough.

Which was why they had to pay.

Well, the only one still alive did.

Yes, this might be a bit early, but waiting did not serve a purpose at this point.

And so he would act.

xXx

AN: For those of you who want to know, I didn't make it in time for the contest. I got close... but close only counts in hoarseshoes and hand granades. :/ Still going to post the rest of it for those of you who are interested in it, but I can't until August. Sorry. :(

Next question: Would you guys be interested in a discord? It would mainly be about my fics so I could get discussions and feedback on them... but I'm SO BAD at discording... is that even a word? Anyway, there would also be places for people to go and just geek about this or that or the other, and boards on mental health discussions and each of my fics and web comics and such... Is anyone up for that?

Also, I'd like to give a shout-out to the person who gave me the idea for this chapter. It's SUCH a good idea! I had your name somewhere, but with my usual disorganization, I lost it. My apologies. So, let me know who you are and I'll change this!

Thank you again to all my readers! :)