It's the Truth, I Swear!
by Mary Christmas (unicorn_76010 at lycos.com)
....just because I had a bit of time on me hands....
Lestrade simply stood there, glowering at the figure in front
of her. She had no idea what he meant by 'training' her, but she
assumed it had something to do with her statement about being an
assassin. Whatever it was, she certainly wasn't going to let him
intimidate her into doing anything she didn't expressly want to
do -- for that matter, anything at all, coming from him.
"And if I refuse?" she asked haughtily, trying to buy some time
as she debated darting past him and into the now empty lift.
Again, the dry chuckle. "Then you will die -- for the attempted
murder of Senator Amidala. So you see, whether you are willing or
not, you will still be doing me a great service."
"How," she asked, keeping her eyes locked on the general
vicinity of his eyes, "would my being implicated in that serve you?"
She kept her eyes hardened, but forced herself to show signs of
weakening resolve, just enough to let him know he was getting to
her. ....Just a few seconds longer...and something to distract
"A pity. You seem to know a great deal about me, and yet you do
not understand my plans. I ask you once more, and I will not ask
again: Will you join me?"
Right at that moment, as if responding to her wish, the
guardsmen who had been tracking her began to try and scramble
through the rubble. It wasn't much, but it distracted Palpatine
long enough for her to scamper past him and climb up onto the top
of the lift. Without waiting for thought to catch up to her, she
began shimmying up the sides of the lift.
Watson stared out over the various ships docked on the platform
he was standing on, next to a battle scarred freighter (though he
wouldn't know that's what it was til later) and debated whether
or not to try and board one. On the one hand, he didn't know
where they were headed, and he didn't want to lose Lestrade. On
the other, if he stayed here, it would be easier for whoever was
after them to catch up to him.
Watson started at the sound of a voice behind him. A
gruff-looking individual wearing grimy clothing reminiscent of what
heroes wore in all those old westerns was walking towards him. "What
are you doing just loitering around here? Aincha got work ta do?"
"I...well I suppose that I...." Watson was at a loss for
words. Suppose he said something that would alert the man to the
fact that he wasn't from around here? Or that he wasn't just an
ordinary 'droid? Or suppose the man was actually working for
"Oh, a protocol 'droid, eh? Wonderful...." A crafty expression
crossed the man's face. "No restrainer bolt...no identifying
marks..why I'd say finders keepers. Come on you, the Hutts are
always willing to pay for good protocol 'droids. How many
languages you speak?"
"Well...I haven't been programmed in languages...so to
speak...." Watson said, hoping that that would be the end of it
and the con (for that's what Watson labeled him as) would simply
leave him be.
"That's okay, languages are easily programmed...by the right
people...and I just happen to know some of the 'right people'."
The con let out a cackling laugh. "Now come on, get on aboard."
Watson, about to refuse, saw several uniformed men climbing out
of a shaft of some sort, and quickly climbed aboard the
freighter. Lestrade would be all right. She had managed to get
herself out of similar situations before, and he had no doubt of
her ability now. Still, as the freighter took off, he couldn't
help but worry about her.
Several hours later, the con who had taken the ship into what
he had called 'hyper-speed' was sitting across from Watson at an odd
"Okay, 'droid, what's your designation? I know your type gets
uppity if we call you anything else. 'sides, I like to know the names
of my passengers."
Watson regarded the con with what should have been a haughty
glare. "My name, sir, is Watson."
"Watson? What kind of...well, what's your make and model?" The
con sounded quite exasperated and put-out. Well, too bad for him.
"I am not at liberty to release that information," he informed
"Fine, Watson," the con sneered, "I'm Jack Sayn, by the way. Not
that it makes any difference. You call me Captain Sayn."
"Hmph. What is our destination anyway?"
A smirk crossed the thin lips. "Tatooine. Like I said. I gotta
friend there who'll program you, and then I can sell you to the
"Seems rather mercenary, don't you think?"
"Yeah, well, when you live life out on the fast lane, you don't
have time to think about things like that."
Watson would have smirked if he could have. "Sounds like the
philosophy of a friend of mine."
Hmm..don't think it's much longer...but it is the next
On to Part 6!
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