- One hour after the fatal incident in the Alpha Labs....
Much to the surprise of everyone around them, Project ‘Zero-One’ was amenable to medical treatment. As the medical personnel approached it, the monstrosity seemed to understand that the men and women meant it no harm even going as far as extending its arms to allow for blood samples and tissue samples to be taken. It wasn’t hard to find the veins, they were on the surface of its still translucent skin. It looked nightmarish in its current form.
As Disaster’s went, this was apocalyptic by corporate standards. Everyone was trying to figure out how to deal with the incoming fallout from the death of the Jedi Order’s Grandmaster. Arriving on the scene first were all of the members of the governing board for Project Alpha. They had reviewed the recording of the confrontation between 'Zero-One' and the Jedi Master on the way to the facility. A little over an hour had passed, Mr. Pultimo was in a state of shock still unable to think or function. That didn’t stop the Director who originally insisted Pultimo not inform the Jedi, from taking the man aside.
“This is a disaster of epic proportions Pultimo! Do you have any idea what you’ve done! I specifically told you….no Jedi were to review this Project, you went against my instructions. At the very least you should consider yourself terminated from our employ and at the most—“ The Director’s tirade was interrupted by another man who strode into the room, his presence immediately commanding calm. Everyone seem to look at him as he walked in.
Valadud Tarkin. Well known within the corporate circuit was a tall, thin man of chiseled proportion. His height and stature commanded calm, mostly because he seemed to be on some kind of walking sedative. Tarkin moved slow and deliberate. Not as much walking as he seemed to float into the room. Speaking with a voice and moving with a slickness that ran in contrast to everyone in the environment losing their minds. It was easy to chalk all of the airs Tarkin brought with him to Tarkin being from the outside. He wasn’t Czerka, he had no stake in any of it. The CEO of the Czerka corporation took it upon himself to hire Tarkin; who was a governing director and CEO of several of his own corporations, as a bi-lateral partner for the Alpha Project. When he arrived, few knew that fact. Those who knew and had dealt with Tarkin also knew him as a man who got things done. A shrewd businessman with an incredibly keen mind; a brilliant tactician. Tarkin was a forward thinker. Czerka was getting not only a new business partner, but someone who could clean things up.
“…at the Most we do what Director? Kill him…hang him from the rafters of the Senate Tower for all to see? I think not…the time is for constructive thinking not blatant criticism.” Tarkin smiled, his words smooth and lighthearted. Looking around the room, already assessing what needed to be done. “You there…come here, please…” Tarkin commanded one of the maintenance supervisors to join him as he approached the Director and Pultimo, who was still busy writhing in a state of self-loathing. “…what’s your name? Nevermind, it’s not important. You are the maintenance supervisor for this facility, are you not?”
“Ya-yes, Sir…”
“Good. You are now the Maintenance Director of this facility. This clean-up crew and all of the individuals involved in this recovery effort now fall under your direct supervision. You will need to have all of them sign non-disclosure agreements. Ensure they understand the penalty for revealing anything they see or anything they recover in this endeavor. Then, you will fire half of them. Terminate their employment and pay them enough severance that all of them will never have to face employment droids ever again.” Tarkin waved the man away. Set on a task the new Maintenance Director waddled off. Tarkin turned his gaze to the Czerka Governing Director and Pultimo. “There is a real need to close the loop on this incident. Less people, means less chance of leaks. Secrecy is paramount.”
“I’m sorry, who are you?” Tarkin smirked as the Governing Director asked the question bluntly.
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
“Who I am is unimportant. What I am is…” Reaching in his pocket, Tarkin produced a datapad and handed it to the Director. “…your services here at Czerka are no longer required Director. On this datapad you will find an adequate sum that ensures you will never have to work again. Thank you, on behalf of the CEO and the corporation.”
“Yo-you can’t do this.” Not even looking at the datapad, the Director lurched forward toward Tarkin. The tall thin man snapped his fingers. Two security agents from the corporation were on Tarkin’s shoulder in an instant.
“Please escort the Director from the premises. Ensure his ID and access to the facility and all Czerka facilities have been revoked.” The guards grabbed the Director, pulling and sliding him from the room and toward the exit. Before looking around the lab again, Tarkin flashed Pultimo a smile. “May I have everyone’s attention. Please, stop what you’re doing…listen, listen please…” When he was sure all eyes were on him, Tarkin spoke again. “My name is Valadud Tarkin…I am taking charge of this situation. All decisions concerning the clean-up and recovery will now go directly through me. Thank you, you may all carry on with your work.”
Pultimo was looking up at Tarkin. Releasing a sigh, Tarkin sat down next to him. A period of silence passed. The former Supreme Chancellor was still looking at the fallen ventilator and the body located under it. Tarkin followed his eyes back to where Pultimo sat, finally laying a hand on the other man’s knee.
“Chancellor, I cannot begin to express my sincere condolences on the loss of your friend. You must understand that my interest, while sympathetic to how you must feel at the moment, do not allow for me to take any of that into consideration. The Jedi will come, in fact, they have already been informed. What you and I must do now is for the best interest of everyone concerned. More importantly, to preserve the integrity of the Project and…the Czerka Corporation.”
Pultimo knew Tarkin, had dealt with him many times as Supreme Chancellor. He looked up slowly, red rimmed eyes gazing at the thin man who held the fake smile, trying to convince him of what needed to be done. The diatribe was a long way of saying something. Pultimo should have clued in by the way the recovery team was cleaning up the lab. They were staying well away from the actual impact site where the Grandmaster’s body lay dormant.
“You mean…we have to lie.” Pultimo spoke softly.
“Did I say that?” Tarkin gave a faux look of surprise. Placing a hand to his chest and lurching away from Pultimo. After placing an arm around the former Supreme Chancellor, Tarkin pulled the other man into him slightly. “How can you lie about something that is simply omitted? It isn’t a lie if it’s not asked about. And the Jedi will not be interested in anything but…a very tragic corporate accident. Their ability to see things we cannot won’t allow them sight beyond what lies before them.” Tarkin gestured toward the fallen ventilator. Standing up, Tarkin buttoned his coat wiping the sleeves to straighten himself.
“And what of Zero-One?” Both men looked back toward the medtechs and scientists who were busy recovering the horrific looking monstrosity that seemed totally different from the creature that attacked and killed the Grandmaster. Tarkin stood a little straighter, clearing his throat.
“Zero-One?” Tarkin questioned obliviously. When he looked down at the seated Pultimo, his eyes got wide. Deep set eye sockets piercing into the former Chancellor. “There is NO Zero-One…as I stated, this has been a tragic corporate accident. All that is required is your cooperation.” Tarkin started to walk away. Pultimo stood sharply, calling after the man.
“The Jedi will never believe it. You may be able to buy off everyone…but the Jedi, they will find out.”
“On the contrary, my dear Supreme Chancellor…they will believe whatever we tell them to believe. The death of one of their greatest leaders, a Master skilled in the art of their mystical power killed by an experiment?!?!” Tarkin laughed. “It’s ludicrous on it’s face. No Jedi in their right minds would possibly believe that something out of a Kolto tank could take down a leader of the Jedi Order.”
“I believe it. I was there.” Pultimo said defiantly. The words made Tarkin drift back toward him. A dark shadow coming back to seal the fate of the former leader of the Galactic Republic.
“Yes, you were…” Tarkin’s voice grew dark. He spoke lowly, with an even lower gaze. Looking down on Pultimo, the former Chancellor felt small. “…and your cooperation is paramount if we are to safeguard the future of the Czerka Corporation.”
“And if I refuse?”
Tarkin narrowed his eyes. The piercing stare dissolved into a wicked smile. Standing back up straight, Tarkin grabbed both hands behind his back and turned to march away.
“Then I’m afraid Czerka can no longer ensure your safety in the workplace….don’t be a liability ‘Chancellor’. We are being reasonable; we only ask that you do what is in the best interest of everyone involved. Including your friend…”