Logged: July 02, 2001
Logged by: Ashton
Titled: A Little Information
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Characters:
Ashton                    
Vahlen von Veiz   
Kastanje                  
Simon 
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Vahlen von Veiz's Office
Rooms normally have personalities, but this one overflows. The decor used 
is not modern by any means, though it is clean, simple, and to the point 
-- things arranged in such a fashion as to make most people stop and gawk. 
Rapiers, swords, and other bladed weapons line the walls, with a potted 
plant or two placed thoughtfully, likely by the secretary. Plush dark 
magenta carpet covers the floor from wall to wall. A large wine cabinet 
with glass doors stands in one of the corners, full of various bottles. 
A large oak desk is the prominent feature in the room, with a green lamp 
sitting at the edge next to a flat screen of a computer terminal inserted 
into the wood. A neat stack of papers, an ashtray, and some data pads are 
scattered throughout the table. Two cushy chairs sit at angles towards 
the desk, with a larger corporate chair behind it. The room smells of a 
mixture of incense, coffee, and probably an expensive cigar. Large windows 
take up most of the back wall behind the desk, shielded with automated 
mini-blinds. There's a brand new plaque on the desk that denotes the 
General's name, matching the one attached to the door outside.

Vahlen von Veiz
    You see a well-built male human of an average height. His shoulder-
length curly black hair is shot through with a few strands of gray, and 
in combination with some fine wrinkles on his face places his age somewhere 
in the fourth decade. He has a straight nose, sharp chiseled chin, and very 
thin lips surrounded by a neatly trimmed goatee without a hint of gray hairs. 
The most prominent feature of his face though, are his eyes: light gray like 
the stormy skies, accentuated by thin black eyebrows and his tendency to 
squint slightly when he examines someone, as if the man tries to see the 
very soul of the person. A thin long scar adorns the right side of his 
forehead, starting from just above his temple, upward to the beginning of 
the part of his hair. Another two scars form an uneven cross right on top 
of his left cheekbone, less then half an inch below his eye. One of the 
scars is slightly whiter then the other and was probably awarded first.
    Upon his tanned skin he wears a loose fitting beige shirt, the top 
three buttons of which are usually unbuttoned showing off some curly black 
hair on his chest. A black vest is thrown over the shirt. It seems to lack 
any kind of fastening devices, but it does have a peculiar emblem embroidered 
over the heart: a shield divided into three parts, the bottom is a picture of 
a sea with a red sun rising over the horizon, the top right is a picture of a 
crossed sword and a pike over a magenta background, sword and a pike over a 
magenta background, and the top left is a picture of a key with a castle wall 
as the background. On his legs the man is wearing loose brown leather pants, 
which are tucked into knee-high black leather boots and held up by a wide 
black leather belt. On the right side of the belt hangs a holster with a 
large blaster in it. On the left, a beautifully crafted and well-ornamented 
scabbard houses an equally well-decorated rapier, which judging by the 
thickness of the handle is a vibroblade. The solemn combination of 
elegance and doom of the weapon may be a reflection of its owner...maybe.

Ashton
    A powerfully built man whose eyes and smile coincide with his young 
and athletic-looking physique. Averaging these two factors, a guess that 
the human male is somewhere in his late teens or early twenties is close 
to accurate. His light brown, almost sandy-brown hair is just longer than 
collar-length with a slight wave at the bottom as if it's starting to curl. 
He has light hazel eyes, more green than brown, but this changes with his
mood or outlook. His short goatee is light brown with tinges of red in it. 
He is rather average in height; no more than five foot ten inches tall.
    Ashton is wearing a light blue tunic over a soft white, high-collared 
shirt. The loose sleeve tunic is belted at the waist with a black utility 
belt. His black pants are tucked into a pair of knee-high boots, made of 
soft black nerf leather. Clipped to his utility belt is a smooth, silver 
cylinder.

A light rap on the door is heard before a young man in his early twenties 
pokes his head inside. The man is garbed in a light blue tunic over light 
colored pants. The cylinder on his belt confirms his identity as a Jedi 
Knight. "General? May I have a word with you?"

Vahlen von Veiz looks up from his computer screen, which reflects green 
light on his chiseled face, making him look somewhat menacingly. The General 
frowns slightly, releasing a ring of blue smoke as he tries to recall any 
appointments he might have made. Not remembering any, Vahlen grumbles 
quietly "That depends on who you are?" and takes another puff of the cigar 
melting in his right hand.

Ashton accepts the gruff remark as an invitation to enter, stepping inside 
the office completely and inclining his head to Vahlen. He clasps his hands 
in front of his belt, making eye contact out of respect. "Sorry to interrupt, 
General. My name is Ashton Quince. The Jedi Council sent me to discuss some 
information that Director of the Intelligence passed on to them." Ashton 
pauses for a moment before adding, "And to ask for your assistance."

Vahlen von Veiz's facial expression visibly goes sour at the mention of the 
Jedi Council and he just now notices the light saber on Ashton's belt, which 
automatically drops his opinion of the intruder even lower. Pfalzgraf just 
doesn't not trust force wielders, regardless of their 'side'. The man's 
muscles tense as he pushes further into his seat, coiling like a snake inside, 
his emotions of distrust and caution easily sensed. Despite his feelings, 
Vahlen forces a faint smile and grits through his teeth "I am at your service, 
Ashton Quince. Would you like a cigar?" he takes a puff himself "...or a drink?" 
as he points at the wine cabinet in the corner. The General nods toward one of 
the chairs on the other side of the desk "And please, make yourself 
comfortable..." while he thinks '...because I will not be until you leave.'

Ashton doesn't need the Force to understand the man's reaction to the mention 
of the Jedi Council. It's evident in the forced expression and vocal change. 
The Jedi Knight's response is completely neutral however. He accepts the 
offered seat, while declining the cigar and drink. "Thank you, General." He 
sits slightly forward in his seat. "10 days ago, Rathe Herperti, the Director 
of Republic Intelligence had a meeting with the Jedi Council. The Masters were 
told that Director Herperti had a young woman in his protective custody. 
Apparently, she had a very large bounty placed on her by a sith. Director 
Herperti believed a sith might come to fulfill the bounty as well, although 
the Council saw that as unlikely." He breaks for a moment to let that 
information sink in.

Vahlen von Veiz reaches up with his left hand to scratch his head, trying to 
recall if he has heard anything about that. But Intel works in mysterious ways 
and they seem to only share information when it's in their best interest, so 
the General does not remember any such incident. He drops his left hand onto 
the arm support of his luxurious chair and puffs on the cigar in thought for 
a few seconds before purring in a deep voice "Who's the girl?" The blue cigar 
smoke escapes from Vahlen's mouth in a faint cloud when he speaks and slowly 
rises to the ceiling where it joins a thin layer of blue fog, which in turn 
is being sucked out through a ventilation duct in one of the corners.

"Her name is Naomi," Ashton says evenly. "She was the young woman abducted 
from the Underworld two days ago." He frowns slightly. He had been there but 
had not been aware that the battle along the dark concourse had anything to 
do with a kidnapping, until after the fact. "The prisoner that was brought to 
the military base... the one who had been gut shot by the one of your officers 
- the Council believes he knows who offered the bounty. If we can determine 
who placed the bounty, we can send someone to retrieve her safely." He sits 
back just slightly, apparently finished with his report, except for the last 
part. "Since this man is your prisoner, the council was hoping you would allow 
me to see him."

Vahlen von Veiz slowly starts to caress his goatee as Ashton tells the story 
and everything falls together like pieces of a puzzle. Unfortunately he has 
been too busy to visit the prisoner, but he just might know whom to ask. The 
General opens a drawer in his desk and pulls out a small square box, which 
almost everybody would be able to recognize as a communicator. Vahlen pushes 
a few buttons on the box and says sternly into it "Captain Kastanje Ajalae, 
come in. Over." He takes another puff of the cigar while waiting for the 
answer and looks back to the Jedi to explain "The woman has taken it upon 
herself to care for the prisoner. She would be able to tell us exactly where 
he is at the moment."

The communicator crackles and a somewhat surprised voice of Kastanje Ajalae 
says "Yes, General?"

Vahlen von Veiz smiles at the speed of the response and says into the box 
"Thank you for the quick answer. I have a Jedi knight here, in my office, 
who would like to meet with the prisoner you recently...acquired. Can you 
please inform us of his current location? Over."

Ashton waits patiently as the General makes his call. He files the Captain's 
name away in his mind, as he had not gotten it the night of the incident. Or 
if she had given her name, he couldn't for the life of himself remember it. 
He remains in the same seating position, not fidgeting or seeming to pay too 
much attention to the General's conversation.

After a brief pause the communication crackles again with Kastanje's voice: 
"I'm with the prisoner now, sir. He's currently being held in the medical 
center on base."

Vahlen von Veiz's smile brightens up even more and he happily puffs on his 
cigar before responding "Excellent. Is he in an acceptable condition to 
receive visitors?"

The communicator says: "Yes, he is able to accept visitors."

Vahlen von Veiz looks up at Ashton, waiting for indication of what the Jedi 
wishes to do, idly puffing on the remains of his cigar.

Ashton bows his head respectfully to the General. "With your permission then, 
sir, I'd like to speak to him." He doesn't rise from his seat or prepare to 
leave. He gives the General his undivided attention, not assuming he will be 
given permission until he hears the words from the man himself.

Vahlen von Veiz smiles at Ashton pleasantly, happy at last that the Jedi will 
leave him alone. The general pushes a button on his communicator and orders in 
excited voice "Prepare for visitors in that case. Jedi Knight Ashton Quince is 
coming down in a few minutes." The cigar is melting dangerously close to Vahlen's 
fingers so he pushes it into the ashtray and twists it until a faint line of 
smoke rises up from the ashes to the ceiling. After that process is complete, 
the man looks up at the Jedi and clears his throat quietly before asking, "Do 
you know your way around the building? More specifically, how to get to the 
Medical center?"

Ashton nods to the General. "Yes, the elevator stops there, correct?" He knows 
it does, but does not want to come off as a no it all. Now he rises to his feet. 
"Thank you for your assistance, General. You've been a great help." Ashton begins 
to back up to turn to go, but pauses, and raises an eyebrow. "General? What is 
to become of this man after he's released from the medical center?"

Vahlen von Veiz quirks an eyebrow at the strange question "Well, I do believe the 
Republic has a very extensive judicial system. I'm sure they will find a nice hole 
for him to rot somewhere. Preferably on a prison planet in the Outer Rim." The 
General emits an evil chuckle and leans back in his chair, grinning devilishly 
"Good luck with your interrogation, Ashton Quince."

For the first time in this meeting, Ashton frowns. Despite the man's actions, 
he hadn't actually harmed anyone. Well, aside from the woman actually being 
kidnapped. But despite Ashton's feelings on this, the General was probably 
right. The judicial system here in the Republic capital was, if anything, 
fair. He removes the frown and nods once to the man before him. "Thank you 
again, General." With an almost glide-like walk, he steps out of the office 
and disappears from sight.

**TRAVEL SPAM OMITTED**

Medical Center - Military Towers
The hospital corridors are alive with activity at all times of the day and 
night. Directly in front of the main entrance is the nurse station, which is 
staffed by a pair of administrative nurses at all times. Red lines on the 
floor direct patients and medical staff to the emergency center to the left 
and blue and green lines head down the right hallway. The sign in front of 
the nurse's station indicates the green lines lead to private rooms and the 
blue lines lead to the ICU area. A pair of armed Republic guards are 
unobtrusively stationed to either side of the hospital entrance.

                   

Kastanje
    Your glance singles out this young woman, despite her somewhat short 
stature. She's on the slighter side of average for a human, no more than 5'4", 
and doesn't seem to bother compensating with flashy clothing. Narrow, Seasmoke-
blue eyes are set symmetrically into an aristocratic face of smooth, sandalwood 
skin. But despite an appearance that could easily turn haughty, the eyebrows on 
this young woman are almost always arched with mirth, her eyes pulling up into 
laughing crescents. The faint hints of laugh wrinkles branch from the corners 
of her eyes, but they're too shallow to put her in more than her late twenties.
    Her slightly frizzy fox-brown hair is pulled back into a long, practical 
fishbone braid. A few wisps manage to poke rebelliously out of the neatly kept 
style, keeping it from seeming too severe. Almost a microcosm of the impression 
she's appears to be cultivating.
    This young woman's wiry frame is clothed in an expensive, though thoroughly 
useable, silky tan blouse and matching olive pants. A slightly bulky vest of 
many pockets rests on her bony shoulders, its muted green color looks like it 
may be due more to wear than design. A smooth gray stone pendant inscribed with 
some illegible symbol hangs from a cord around her neck.

Simon
    You see a tall, muscular but stooped figure in a plain white robe, made of 
a toweling material. His sunken eyes roam warily about the room, while his 
stubble-encrusted face oozes boredom and fatigue. For someone so apparently 
unkempt, he is remarkably clean, the small scars on his face and hand gleaming 
whitely.

"Ah yes, it had been a few days since I'd seen you catch Naomi, hadn't it?" 
Kastanje notes, voice holding a note of amusement. "I wonder if they regret 
the delay at all..."

Simon continues to lie on his back, arms crossed and eyes closed. His face is 
one of relaxed amusement as he banters with Kastanje, "I doubt it - I'm 
expendable and irrelevant - it's one of my key strengths." He shrugs very 
slightly, "They got the girl, and I doubt anything else matters."

Ashton enters the medical center and makes an inquiry at the nurse's station. 
He's directed to follow the lines to the rooms area. Down the hall, he can 
make out two Republic soldiers guarding a room. Common sense tells him that's 
the room he's looking for. The guards stiffen as he approaches, but obviously 
know who he is and allow him to push open the door and enter the room. Once 
inside, he takes in the scene, nodding politely to Kastanje. "Good evening, 
Captain."

Sat with her legs curled under her on a chair as she is, Kastanje determines 
that standing to greet Ashton will require unnecessary effort, and probably 
look foolish to boot. The Captain inclines her head in greeting instead, 
"Evening, Jedi Quince. The General tells me you'd like to meet with our 
prisoner here?" She gestures with one hand over at Simon's reclining figure.

Simon opens an eye as the door opens, raising his eyebrows when he sees that 
it isn't a general, it's the Jedi from before. He turns his head slightly and 
opens the other eye as well so that he can track Ashton across the room.

Ashton offers a slight smile to Kastanje, and nods in affirmation to the 
question. He then turns to Simon and inclines his head, "If you're up to it, 
that is, Mr. Farranger." The look on his face indicates that Ashton knows the 
man is in good health and healthy enough for questions.

Kastanje has nothing to say at this point, but regales Simon with a studying 
look to judge the captive bounty hunter's reaction.

Simon smiles gently to Ashton, and pulls on the bars at the side of the bed 
to become upright. Wincing slightly, he asks, "Is this an official interview? 
I don't do interviews without my lawyer."

Ashton arches an eyebrow slightly, adding a subtle smirk to the glance he 
gives Simon. "I don't represent the Republic government, Mr. Farranger. I'm 
not allowed to make any deals with you or make any promises on behalf of the 
government. Likewise, if you wish, what is discussed here will not be used 
against you in your trial if the captain here agrees to turn a deaf ear to 
what you tell me." He stops at the foot of the bed, watching the man intently 
for a few moments. "And, I won't be asking you any questions about the crimes 
you are charged with, if that helps."

Kastanje leans back in her seat, comfortable with Simon's reaction to Ashton's
presence. A critical eye remains trained on the injured man's movements, 
perhaps assuring he does not overexert his healing body. "Oh, I much prefer 
to satisfy my curiosity than act to picky about what details I remember for 
the trial," Kastanje says, raising a hand to agree with Ashton's 'if'.

Sliding himself back so that his back is supported by the wall, Simon nods to 
Ashton with a smile. "Oh, the captain and I are fine." Captain eh? "She's my 
doctor, so nothing she says is admissible anyway." He pauses for a moment 
before adding, "If you don't want to find out about Naomi, why are you here?"

Ashton senses the concern from Kastanje and wonders whether that concern comes 
from guilt or something more affectionate. Something that might interfere with 
her objectivity. But, she's not Ashton's worry, nor is her feelings for the 
prisoner. He closes his eyes for a moment - much longer than a normal blink. 
When his hazel eyes appear again, he smiles amiably. "Well, off the record, 
Mr. Farranger, I know you are responsible for the abduction of the woman. All 
I really want to know is /who/ placed the bounty on her and where she is 
supposed to be delivered." He straightens slightly, hands resting on the 
footboard of the bed.

Kastanje merely appears to be watching Simon with clinical concern. She raises 
an eyebrow at the slow closing of Ashton's eyes, recognizing that as potentially 
more than it seems. She sits silently in her chair, taking a turn listening for 
now.

Simon narrows his eyes at Aston's question and considers lying for a moment - 
then he realizes that he has already told Kastanje. "The customer for this 
transaction is Darth Bane, and you're too late - the ship had orders to leave 
without me and is on Teta by now." He grins, "I'm told that I'm caught up in 
some sort of internal Sith war by the good doctor here. What does the name 
Set Harth mean to you?"

Ashton nods, "As I thought. Looks like I'm going to end up meeting this guy 
sooner than later." He doesn't seem pleased by the notion. Or maybe he won't. 
If there was one thing Ashton did better than any Jedi in the temple, it was 
his ability to hide his Force presence. He could even keep his presence 
hidden from most of the members of the council if he wished, but they tended 
to frown upon that unless it was necessary. He shakes his head at the 
question about Set Harth. "No, the name's not familiar. You mentioned him 
the other night too. Who is he?" His questions seem to come more from 
curiosity now than as part of his investigation.

Kastanje again remains quiet, having her own information and suspicions she 
wishes to confirm without influencing the Bounty Hunter's answer to the Jedi. 
Her eyes regard Simon thoughtfully, perhaps watching to see if Ashton's 
presence will bring out truth she'd previously been denied.

Simon looks deep into Ashton's eyes, thinking about Set Harth and the way 
that the man was surrounded by secrets. "I tell you what - I'll tell you 
everything I know about Set Harth, if you will explain Sir Terrick Seth to 
me." He smiles to himself, continuing to stare at Ashton, wondering how 
the man will react.

Ashton's face cracks into a grin at that one. "Well, I'll tell you what I 
know of him. He was never one of my students. I was away from Coruscant 
for most of his early training. But I'll tell you what I know..." He moves 
over to Kastanje's side of the bed and finds a divider wall to lean up 
against. Now Simon doesn't need to split his field of vision between the 
two of them. "Go ahead..." he says, as if prompting the man to tell what 
he knows of Set Harth.

Kastanje visibly perks, ears catching an unfamiliar name that apparently 
has some significance. "Terrick Seth?" She repeats, just to reinforce her 
interest in the conversation to the other men.

Simon watches Ashton closely, smiling into his eyes. "When you've finished 
telling me about Terrick, you'll know more about Set Harth than I ever 
did." He grins wickedly and explains, "Set Harth is a bitter and twisted 
soul who has dedicated his existence to destroying Darth Bane." Simon 
drops to silence for a moment, swallowing. His eyes water, but it is 
clear that the blaster wound is not the source of his pain. "He kills 
everything he touches."

That seems to click it for Ashton, and he nods in understanding. "Even 
in his self-induced exile, it seems the padawan still works towards our 
end," Ashton says amusedly, more to himself than to the other occupants 
of the room. He lists an eyebrow at Kastanje's question and turns to her 
slightly, keeping his focus on Simon. "Terrick is a man who was discovered 
by the council. I've never known the Council to approve training for 
someone so old - he's a good couple of years older than I am - so it 
surprised me to meet him as a student of the Master who trained me." He 
closes his eyes and shakes his head in regret. "When Katrick died, Terrick 
was put under the leadership of a different master. They didn't get along. 
So the council put Terrick in the care of one of the Jedi Council leaders. 
He also disappeared after being forced to strip the padawan of his weapons 
and title. Terrick left Coruscant months ago and I haven't heard a thing 
about him since."

"Until now, apparently?" Kastanje states, the slight lilt of a question at 
the end as her mind makes a leap of logic that she doesn't wish to mistake. 
"It's a shame he didn't settle into being a Jedi here... He must have had 
great potential if the Council took him in at such an age." She looks 
thoughtful, staring past Simon's bed to the divider on the other side.

Simon pales, his jaw slackening and eyes widening, "No!" he shouts, 
forcefully enough to cause him to collapse forward from the pain. Putting 
his face in his hands, he sobs, "So these are the people who are so much 
better than everyone else in the galaxy!" face reddening with rage, he 
forces himself upright, grabbing at Ashton's shirt. "He kills everything 
he touches! Do you have any idea what that means! Do you realize that he's 
the one responsible for all of this? I have seen him kill people with his 
bare hands!"

Ashton loses his smile for just a moment, taking the time to reach up and 
touch Simon's hand. A positive flow of energy passes from Ashton to Simon, 
which not only causes his grip to slacken, but it adds a mild peace to 
Simon's distraught emotions. As he pulls away from the bed, he reaches out 
through the Force, picking at the mental image of Set Harth so vividly in 
place at the front of Simon's mind. It's something he doesn't like to do, 
but he needs visual proof and he takes care to only pull at that image. 
Slowly, he nods. "Yes, I can see that now, Mr. Farranger," he says, his 
voice soothing and with some empathy. "Where does Terrick, or should I 
say Set Harth, figure into all this thing with Naomi? Anywhere?"

Kastanje starts awkwardly up from her seat at Simon's ill-advised outburst, 
unfolding her legs from beneath her. But the Jedi is much quicker, and more 
effective at calming the injured man than she would have been, so the 
Captain settles down into her chair, elbows resting on knees and fingers 
laced together as she watches the two men for hints of what transpires. 
Her thoughtful expression from before looks somewhat troubled.

Simon stops charging at Ashton as the Jedi takes his hand and influences 
his mind. A picture is clearly visible in his mind, an image of Set Harth 
reaching out with his hands to strangle a woman dressed in a black military 
uniform. Her face turns blue as he squeezes the life out of her, and she 
drops to the ground. The image switches momentarily to Set's face in a 
close up, saying "I know about the sith."

Shaking his head to clear it, Simon drops back onto the bed in confusion. 
Dazed, he answers, "Bane knows that Set is trying to kill him, and he needs 
to take control of the situation. Naomi is Set's girlfriend - she's bait." 
Exhausted, he drops back into a sitting position on the bed.

Ashton raises an eyebrow. Now that was something he did /not/ know. So the 
woman was being brought back as bait for her boyfriend. Still, she had been 
taken against her will. And Ashton would do exactly what Katrick had set him 
out to do a year before: help the sith 'see the light' and make amends for 
their past deeds. Now he simply had a new target for his mission. "Thanks 
you for your honesty, Mr. Farranger. You've been a great help." He turns 
his head to raise an eyebrow at Kastanje. "I know it won't mean much to 
your Commanding Officer, but if you have a part in Mr. Farranger's trial, 
be sure to make mention of his willingness to assist us with the 
investigation... if Mr. Farranger wishes you to." Stepping back from the 
bed, he inclines his head to Simon. "Rest, Mr. Farranger. I'll take care 
of Set Harth for you..."

Take care of Set Harth? That means Kastanje doesn't have to post a whole 
garrison around Simon's bed, right? The Captain looks somewhat relieved, 
despite (or perhaps because of) her incomplete understanding of the exact 
situation. "I'll try and bring it up," she assures Ashton, not putting 
much thought actually into the statement. "And I think my thanks are in 
order as well if you intend on 'taking care of' this Set Harth. Wouldn't 
do to have our prisoner drawing such a threat to our own tower."

Simon allows himself to fall back onto his pillow, closing his eyes in 
pain and exhaustion. His breathing begins to slow down, up until the 
moment he realizes the implications of what Ashton said. "Captain," he 
breathes, "Mention my cooperation in a trial and I'll be dead within a 
week." He swallows. "If you want to thank me, I'll be better off in jail 
than on the streets branded a traitor."

Ashton shrugs lightly at Kastanje. "If word gets out that Naomi in on 
her way to Teta, then Harth is probably already there or will be. Still, 
he's not very good at hiding himself from other Force users. The council 
will be able to detect him if he comes to Coruscant. But since he was 
foolish enough to go to Teta to take on Bane when he was only a padawan 
anyway, nothing would surprise me about him." He smiles as Simon speaks, 
and slowly, he nods in agreement. "That's probably true, Captain. A point 
in his favor though is that they were using stun weapons, so Mr. Farranger 
here didn't intend on killing anyone when they abducted Naomi. Anyway, I 
better get back to report to the Council. Thanks again for your help, 
Mr. Farranger." And with a simple bow, Ashton steps back out of the room 
and disappears from sight.

END OF LOG