Epilogue

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TheTick

"Make sure he gets to the medical center right away."

"Don't worry, Master Jedi, we'll take good care of him."

Rann dismisses the med tech, and Galak manages a weak thumbs-up before the transport's doors close and it takes off.  The padawan nods to himself and steps back into the shrine, looking for Arani.  He finds her tapping away on the smuggler's computer.  "I've got some information Master Ali-Vor may want to look at - they have a base of operations in Theed, but all of their communication goes to one of the Hutt families.  Republic Security should see this."

"Great work, Arani.  Let me contact Master Ali-Vor and send this to him."

Arani gestured at a secondary terminal, "Thanks.  You should be able to contact him from here."  Rann nods in thanks, taps in a few codes, and Master Ali-Vor appeared on screen shortly after.

"My Padawan, I understand these smugglers gave you some trouble.  Are your friends okay?"

"Yes, Rorworr is a bit singed, and Galak will be floating in a Bacta tank for a day or so, but otherwise we are none the worse for it."  Rann smiled grimly.  "Master, we found evidence that there may be Hutt involvement.  Arani can forward you the details.  I'd suggest sending the data to your contacts in Republic Security."

"Yes, indeed.  Excellent work, Rann.  I'll be sure to highlight you and your friends' involvement in this.  You never know when the Republic will need skilled fighters.  May the Force be with you."

That didn't take too long or anything!  A few clerical notes:  Galak would've missed again with his next attack, but Rann and Arani took care of business.
Babies, chum: tiny, dimpled, fleshy mirrors of our us-ness, that we parents hurl into the future, like leathery footballs of hope. And you've got to get a good spiral on that baby, or evil will make an interception!

T_Smith

It says you last edited this in 1969. That's pretty impressive. :)

TheTick

An artifact of upgrading from the old PHPBB to SMF.  Seems to have imported all of the old posts as a guest user, with that edit date.
Babies, chum: tiny, dimpled, fleshy mirrors of our us-ness, that we parents hurl into the future, like leathery footballs of hope. And you've got to get a good spiral on that baby, or evil will make an interception!