The man who had been killed was from the Bel Iblis family from Corellia.

It had been kept pretty well under wraps for a long while until someone in the Senate finally let it slip. People were wanting answers. We had absolutely nothing to give them. Luckily, most of the questions were thrown at people far over me, so it left me pretty well out of the firing line when it came to the incessant questioning.

Talen found himself bombarded by people when he'd try to enter the building, but I had to give him credit for being as controlled and calm about it as he was. We had all agreed that we would have likely wound up fighting one of the many reporters, but there was a reason that he was a Jedi and I was a Clone Trooper.

He had come in and shut the door behind him with a heavy sigh as he rubbed his eyes. It was hard not to see a little kid in the robe that seemed almost too big for his small frame, and I blame that for part of my initial sympathetic feelings towards my most hated enemy, but any sympathy I could muster quickly dissipated when he opened his mouth and sounded almost identical to a fully grown, preachy Jedi Master. "I understand the desire for information," he began almost breathlessly, "but these people need to temper themselves."

"Any word on the Jedi who was killed?" I asked, leaning back against the wall beside Red.

Talen gave a frustrated shake of his head and crossed his arms, "The Council hasn't told me anything aside from the fact that he was a knight who was somewhere he shouldn't have been. I'm not too fond of the secrecy."

It was typical. The Jedi were never too fond of sharing information when it came to their members. Saving face was far more important than anything else, after all. Having the Order look divided was bad publicity. Who really cared if it kept a murderer on the loose?

The strange thing was that they hadn't even been willing to impart the knowledge onto Talen. That was a pretty serious red flag if any of us had ever seen it.

The kid didn't seem like the type who would lie.

"Our suspect list was endless," Grek shrugged. "We've got a million suspects and a thousand of them use a weapon fitting the description you got out of the Nikto."

"Ah," Talen looked beyond defeated. "Wonderful..."

"Nikto said he sold the guns, yeah?" Red piped up at long last. "Think he knows who modifies them? Any sellers?"

Talen seemed to consider it. I could see the wheels in his head turning as he passed a hand over his chin, "Maybe... I don't know how effective interrogating him will be again, but I can try."

We followed him in and watched him work just the same as last time, gently coaxing the information out with a decent chunk of mental gymnastics that was, in its own weird way, strangely impressive when you disregarded the fact that he was getting inside of this Rodian's head. We listened in over the monitors while he worked when the name of one seedy Rodian came over the speakers, collectively making all of us Clones sigh.

"Beezo," Tor sighed and shook his head. "Of all of the seedy, no good shabuire we deal with, it had to be Beezo."

Beezo was notorious in the underworks for selling all sorts of illegally modified weapons. Unfortunately, we never had any real cause to go after him and suspiciously all of our requests for warrants were denied. The guy had connections, but now with a confession...

Well, let's just say that knocking wasn't on our list of things to do when we got to his shop.

Talen looked out looking slightly dazed as several other members of the Guard moved the Nikto back to his cell, "Does the name mean anything to you?" He asked the question to me while blinking rapidly and trying to get his eyes to focus.

Red moved to him and caught him under the arm as he stumbled off to one side, and Tor quickly went to them and helped him to a chair. Even Grek was looking worried. "You okay, kid?" Red asked as one of his hands went to the small Jedi's shoulders anxiously. I hadn't noticed until then that even I had taken an instinctive step forward towards the kid as he all but collapsed into the chair I still wasn't going to admit that I had a little pang of worry in my chest - least of all to myself.

"I'm... I'm fine," Talen managed out as he brought his hand to his face and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I just... I had to probe deeper. Whatever they did to that man is... It's..." He shook his head, "His wounds run deep. I had to go deeper and it took a toll. Give me a moment and I'll be alright."

Something about the fact that they had taught a kid to do that made my hackles rankle more than just a little. I know there was that saying that Jedi are trained to do what they think they can't, but still. It seemed a little much to me to have a kid that young learning to reach into the depths of someone's inner sanctum and rip out information.

Red didn't move from his side until Talen finally pushed himself up and looked to me with a smile. It was a little forced, but I didn't want to argue, "Ready to go, sir?" I asked, and he gave a chipper nod as he made for the door.

He paused after a moment and turned to me with an embarrassed smile, "Uh... You do know where I can find this Beezo, right?"

I couldn't keep back a laugh as I caught up to him and gave a shake of my head, "Come with me, kid. Come with me."

*

We were riding down the elevator into the lower levels. Tor, Grek, and Red were all chattering amongst one another behind us as Talen shuffled up to stand beside me, facing out past the glass doors as we descended into Coruscant's less than reputable underbelly. He cast a cursory glance up at my helmeted face before he clasped his hands in front of him, "Captain... Can I ask you a question?"

"I don't know. Can you?"

I saw him frown and quirk an eyebrow at me before he gave a long huff and turned back to face out over the landscape before us, "Alright - may I ask you a question?"

"Kid, you don't have to ask. This isn't a lecture hall."

"Right. Sorry," he brushed a hand quickly over the back of his neck and looked back up at me, the same hand nervously going to his padawan braid that hung down over his right shoulder. "It was a personal one, so..."

"Kid," I turned to look at him, "I really don't want to get to know you, and I'm pretty sure you don't really want to get to know me."

He seemed more than a little surprised at that, and his hand seized on his padawan braid as if I had snapped at him. "But I do!" Now that surprised me. I looked back down at him after he had hurried out the words, and I almost feel like he could sense the surprise that was written across his face. "We're working together for a while. I'd like to get to know you. The rest of your squad has already told me a lot about themselves!"

At that remark, I slowly turned around to look at the rest of my squad, who had all gone quiet and suddenly decided to do weapons and gear checks by the time I found myself turned to face them. I gave my eyes a roll and finally let out a long sigh of resignation as I turned back to Talen, who was looking up at me expectantly with those big eyes of his. "Fine. What do you want to know?"

"Your name," he began like he had been anticipating me to agree, "is in Mando'a, right? What does it mean?"

I hesitated a second before I put my hands on my hips, "Kando means "worth" or "value" in Mando'a. I... picked it just before I left Kamino."

Talen was watching me like he expected something else to follow, but when I remained silent his hand went to his padawan braid again, "Did you pick it for a reason?"

"Take a guess."

He seemed to put two and two together and smile up at me, "I like it. It suits you."

"Flattery is going to get you nowhere."

"I mean it!" He insisted, "It suits you more than you think it does."

The fact that he knew what I had been thinking, that I was a little unsure if my name even fit me, made me angrier than it should have, "Stop," I snarled, my head jerking to him and making him take a step away. "Get out of my head and stay out of it."

His hand had once again gripped the braid, his anxious tell, and he looked like he desperately wanted to backpedal on what he said, "I'm sor-"

"Don't kriffing apologize! Just don't do it!"

"I can't!" He blurted out, making the entire elevator go completely silent. "I can't stop it. It just happens! I can' just turn my powers off! I'm sorry!" He was practically begging me to forgive him, his whole body now turned to face me and half curled in on himself as he spoke, hand tight around the braid on his shoulder. "I can feel how much you don't like me. I know. I'm sorry. I just... I just want you to not hate me as much as you do. I promise I'll try to stop. I'll... I'll try to find some way to keep it... to..." He looked like he was going to start crying out of sheer frustration, and part of me wondered how he got that way.

I reached out and put a hand on his shoulder, "I... Talen, I'm sorry. I didn't...know how..." I felt like a tool, and I didn't need to see Red and Grek to know how they were glaring at me. "Kriff, I'm bad at this. I'm sorry. Just don't..."

I was never good at talking. That was Red's thing. He and Grek were good with people. I was engineered to be a leader of Clones, of soldiers, not of tiny insecure Jedi children. I lacked that gentleness that the other two could muster, and it was never more apparent than when I was attemtping to comfort that kid.

Finally, I managed to put words together that wouldn't make it worse and I rested my other hand on his other shoulder, turning him to face me, "You're not the Generals I served with." The words made him finally look back up at me, "It's unworthy of me to treat you like this, and I'm sorry." The elevator finally reached the level we needed and the door peeled open. I didn't wait for his response before I was out the door and making my way for Beezo's slimy little shop on the far side of the level.

*

We wound our way through the narrow crowded streets and I shrugged off most of the dirty glares we were getting from the locals. The boys and I were regulars in this part of town for reasons that the locals absolutely despised. We were in charge of shutting down most of the major smuggling rings in this area. Not glamorous work, but small-time smuggling could potentially lead to bigger enterprises that weren't as innocuous. Better to take out a small-time arms dealer now than let it lead to them supplying specialized weapons to the Seppies later.

Beezo was one of those dealers, though his usual clientele wasn't usually as aggressive or as much of a problem as what it apparently was now. He supplied guns to bounty hunters and their ilk. I wouldn't have thought him worthy of an assassin's attention, but there was a first time for everything, and he was nothing if not discrete.

We pushed open the door to his dingy little shop and found him staring blankly at us for a second before he smirked and crossed his arms over his chest, "Well, well. If it isn't Captain Clone Boy and his band of test-tube babies. Here without a warrant yet again?"

He was lucky I liked obeying the law because if there wasn't Talen standing right next to me I would have finally had enough and put one blaster bolt straight between the shabuir's eyes. "Shut it, Beezo. We know you were involved in the death of the senator's cousin."

Beezo looked rather surprised when I managed that out, and he scoffed, "You're kidding me, right, Captain Clone Boy?"

"We got word that you modify weapons like the one used to kill him."

The rodian let out a long swear in Huttese, "Golno, that kriffing... Listen, I ain't telling you anything, Captain Clone Boy!" His eyes finally landed on Talen and he started fidgeting, "Uh... Is he a..."

"A Jedi," Talen spoke, sounding a lot more commanding than a twelve-year-old. "Listen to me," my eyes went to his fingers, gently moving as he spoke, "tell us what we want to know and there won't be any problem. This is an official investigation and your help would be much appreciated."

"Uh..." The Rodian was blinking like something was messing with his head, and he gave it a shake before he crossed his arms, "Nope. Sorry. My clientele needs to understand that I have a level of discretion. Hope you understand."

There wa sonly one language that scum like him understood, and I strode forward as I unholstered one of my DC-17's and shoved it up right between his eyes, making him yelp in surprise, "Listen here, chakaar, you have exactly twenty seconds to tell me what I want to know, or I'll paint the back of your shop with your brains."

"You... You wouldn't..." He looked to Talen, and I half expected the kid to ask me nicely to step away.

Instead, all he did was shrug, "You heard the Captain."

I heard the boys turn in surprise more than I saw them, and I couldn't help but smirk, "You're down to fifteen, by the way."

The Rodian stared down the barrel of my blaster and finally sighed, "Alright. Listen, I don't ask who my patrons are most of the time. I was approached by some Togruta - tall fellow, all purple-y - and he said that he had someone who needed a custom rifle. Something long-range that packed a punch. I don't ask questions, I just do my job. Asking questions gets you shot. So, I made that thing up - the best rifle I've done in years. Togruta came back, took it, paid me in hard credits, and left."

"No information at all?" I asked again and the Rodian gave a shake of his head.

"Nope. Just a name, but I don't even know if it's real."

"Gonna tell me or am I gonna have to shoot?"

"Whoa! Calm down, Captain Clone Boy! The name was Wassay. I don't have anything else! I swear!"

I cast a quick look at Talen, who nodded the affirmative that this Rodian was indeed telling the truth. "Thank you for your cooperation," I lowered the blasters and turned back to Tor, "You know the drill."

"Yes, sir. Grek, you're with me."

Grek groaned as Tor grabbed him and hauled him away. Talen, Red, and I all regrouped outside and I crossed my arms, "Well... We've got a name."

"Aliases are good to have. Chances are, this Togruta has used it more than once," Talen added with a grin coming to his face. I figured we were all probably happy to finally have a lead of some sort. It finally meant that we were getting somewhere. He poked his head around me and asked, "Any idea where we can find Wassay?"

The Rodian seemed to hesitate a moment before he stepped around the counter and stood before Talen, wringing his hands, "Listen... I don't want to be selling to assassins. It's a bad market, you know?" Talen nodded understandingly while Red and I exchanged eye rolls behind our helmets. "You want to look for this guy, though? Nar Shaddaa. It's where his last call came in from and where I sent the weapon." Before he turned away, he added quickly, "You didn't hear that from me..."

"Of course not," Talen added with another nod as he turned away and gestured for us to follow him out of the shady little corner shop. We stopped once we had boarded the elevator and Talen sighed, "That went better than expected."

"I'll say..." Red grunted, "Hope we didn't accidentally kill that Rodian..."

"What? Why?" Talen had turned to us in surprise. "Why would that have killed him?"

Red and I exchanged a look and then finally turned to him, "You're so blissfully naive, kid." I shook my head at him before I crossed my arms and stared off over the cityscape below.

I let my eyes slide over to him within the safety of my helmet, and I saw him desperately attemtping to put the pieces of a world, so far removed from his own that it gave him trouble, together. Finally, he seemed to understand. The kid was bright enough, at least. He looked back down at the toes of his boots. "I hope we didn't."

He was a soft-heart, more so than even some of the other Jedi I had seen. They never seemed too emotionally invested in the people they encountered from where I stood, yet there was Talen Jall, a tiny twelve-year-old padawan, thrown into a world that was beyond opposed to the only one he likely knew, feeling worried for an arms dealer and sorry that we had to go to him in the first place.

"Hey," Red had crossed over and gave him a friendly pat on the back, "don't beat yourself up over it. He's crafty enough that he'll be alright."

I turned my attention back to the cityscape as the two talked. It was annoying to me in a way that Red, of all of my brothers, seemed to be warming up to the little Jedi that had been thrown in with us. Not that I was faring much better at the time. I had actually apologized to the kid. That alone was just something I didn't do. Still, I was finding it hard to hate him as much as I wanted to.

He wasn't the Jedi I served under. He was still just a kid being made to do something that should have been done by someone much older than him, but there he was. The last thing I wanted to do, I decided, was help turn him into another Vos or Krell. I was at least going to make an effort to be nice to him. It was the least I could do.

*

That night, I couldn't sleep. It wasn't an uncommon occurrence. I figured they accidentally put too much adrenaline in my vat and it kept me awake more often than not. I was up, meandering through the base and checking on the night crew. Did they have their caf? Questionable reading materials? Snacks that needed to be hidden from Fox when he inevitably made his rounds? If they didn't, I grabbed some for them.

I may have only really spoken to most of them to give orders or make some quip about Fox behind his back, but I looked after my brothers. We all looked after one another, in our way.

I was returning from dropping off some holomags for the poor sods stuck in the monitor room when I noticed our small Jedi slipping down to the communications room. It wasn't like him to just sneak out in the dead of the night, and frankly, sneaking meant that someone was breaking the rules.

I followed him at a distance until I saw him at one of the terminals, and I situated myself behind one of the nearby walls to watch him. Sure enough, the holocall finally pinged through, but who he had called caught me off-guard. A Chagrian woman appeared on the other end and she clapped a hand over her mouth to muffle a joyous shout, "Talen, darling, is that really you?"

"Hello, Mama," I heard the smile in his voice since all I could actually see was his back.

"Saaras! It's Talen!"

Another Chagrian appeared, a male this time, and they quickly began speaking to one another in Chagri. Their tones were jovial and light, and every now and again quick peals of laughter would escape the boy in front of them.

He was calling his family. It was against the rules, but what was I going to do? Stop him from calling his parents? I wound my way back upstairs, leaving him to finish out his call in peace, though I waited near the stairs for him to finish, and as he made his way up, moving to pass me as if he didn;t realize I was there, I gave a little cough and made him nearly jump out of his skin.

"Pleasant chat?" I asked it as a genuine question, but even in the low lights of the building, I saw his face burn bright red. "Calm down, kid. I'm not going to report you."