It feels great when your allies love you and your enemies fear you. That is how a successful life works after all. It had been five years since the war ended, but despite the galaxy becoming a more peaceful place, the reputation of the Jedi was at an all time low. The way they destroyed the Brotherhood of Darkness was, in my opinion, correct but all consuming. The Brotherhood had allies that were now in decline but remained very vocal.
The Jedi possessed a large presence and vast wealth despite being a monk like religion. Even though they did not always do the correct thing, they occasionally did the smart thing. They attempted to repair their falling reputation by delivering cheap food and medical assistance. It was a good start, but most people simply rolled their eyes at the gesture. If they were hungry, they went to the food halls owned by Bee. If they were injured, they went to the healing halls owned by Bee. I had filled their basic needs long ago.
Peacekeeping was another task the Jedi performed, but the war had shaken the hearts of the people. When the average citizen saw a Jedi, all they recognized was a type of hyper violent police force. It was going to take a long time for the people to forget the carnage.
A smart move by the Jedi was the announcement of a public livestream interview. A Jedi Master would answer any and all questions from the public. They even held a poll for the citizens to choose who would conduct the interview. It was a clever tactic that I might have used myself if I needed a reputation boost.
The poll was going quite well. A very beautiful female Twi'lek hoverboarder was taking the lead. Everything was fine until a new name was nominated by the public and heavily voted for. My name.
The public wanted me to interview the Jedi Master. The truth was that the public probably just wanted to see me. I was famous throughout the galaxy, but no one truly knew who I was. A few people realized that I might make a better interviewer, but that thought was overshadowed by the legend of Bee. There was an entire part of the galaxy named after me. The people wanted to see the man behind the myth, and so they voted for me.
The poll was a foregone conclusion. The votes for me dwarfed all others combined. I was not initially planning to do it, but the Jedi, in their infinite wisdom, deleted my name from the poll. They were already wary of me and likely felt through the Force that it was a bad idea to have me asking the questions.
I felt disappointed and miffed by their actions. As I thought about it, the disappointment faded and the annoyance doubled. Negative emotions bubbled to the surface until my annoyance turned into genuine anger. I did not like my name being used and then discarded by the Jedi. The anger rolled around my mind until I decided to do something to ease my feelings. I went on a trip.
The interview was only moments away from being broadcast. Maristela Arushi, a Master Jedi Consular and famed prosecutor, was waiting for the hoverboard champion to arrive at her hotel suite. A knock on the door let the Jedi know the guest was there, yet Maristela felt an ill feeling in the pit of her stomach. The Jedi Council had picked her because of her abilities in court. It was a bonus that she was female and perceived as more gentle by the masses, but that was not reality. In court, she attacked her opponents like her life was on the line. She never gave them a chance to escape. Even with her years of experience, she felt an omen creeping up on her. The Force was trying to tell her something.
Her aide opened the door. Maristela tensed up, half expecting to be surrounded by an inescapable enemy. The bitter taste of worry disappeared when the young Twi'lek, Hazjehu Vao, entered the room. The girl seemed to be in awe of the Jedi Master. Maristela could feel the excitement rolling off the girl's mind. It surprised the Master that the young hoverboard champion had a strong, untapped connection with the Force.
The aide began to close the door, and Maristela relaxed her mind to prepare for the interview. Before the door could close completely, a jolt of worry enhanced by the Force caused her eyes to snap wide open. A hand the size of a dinner plate wedged itself between the door and the frame. The aide, not realizing what was happening, pushed harder against the door, but it made no difference.
Like a scene from a horror film, the door slowly forced itself open, pushing the aide back with it. A long shadow stretched across the doorway. The person standing there was so large that the light from the hallway could not find a way around him. The Force was whispering to Maristela, but the message was unclear. It was as if the Force could not decide where the danger was coming from.
"What a wonderful day for a spot of interrogation," the man said.
His voice was undoubtedly at ease. The shadow across his body melted away as the hulk of flesh bent over and shimmered into the room sideways. Before anyone could complain, the fat man began giving out orders to the droids following him.
"Set it up over there. No, a bit further to the left," he directed.
Droid after droid marched in, pushing past the stunned aide. They began setting up tables covered in vast amounts of food. Maristela remained on the edge of her seat. She knew exactly who this was. The man was as infamous as he was famous. He was known for his ruthless efficiency against the Brotherhood of Darkness and his willingness to go to extraordinary lengths to win.
"Ah, the famous Hazjehu Vao," the man said, turning to the Twi'lek. "Winner of the Hollow Mile and world record holder on the Hoth track. Allow me to introduce myself. Please, call me Bee."
If there was one person in the galaxy who needed no introduction, it was Bee. His face and name were everywhere. Even on the furthest stations, there was a healing hall or a food hall ready for use. Hazjehu Vao, whose attention had been fixed on the Jedi, was now completely focused on Bee.
The Jedi were famous, but mostly for being Jedi. Bee was an individual famous for his specific deeds. There were even small holotapes circulating of his more amazing exploits. He was a philanthropist with his hands in every pie, a man who fought off the Brotherhood using underhanded methods and made insane amounts of credits that he shared with his partners. He made deals with the Hutts and carved a corner of the galaxy for himself, yet no one knew how he had started it all.
Maristela subconsciously placed her hand on her lightsaber hilt. The Force had calmed, but it was still nudging her, warning of danger. She felt cold. She had tried to read Bee with the Force to gain some information, but she could not feel a single flowing emotion. Maristela had prosecuted mass murderers who appeared as cold as ice, but their minds always rolled with conflicting emotions. Bee felt like a solid wall of ice.
A cluster of droids broke her thoughts as they began creating an extensive sofa out of a collection of pillows. Bee laid down upon it like a conquering emperor. Maristela gracefully flipped her robe and stood up.
"This is a private interview, Mr. What is your real name?" she demanded.
Bee waved over a droid and picked up a crystal goblet filled with a shimmering purple liquid. "Ms. Arushi, you can call me Bee," he said, giving a small wink. "And it is hardly private when the whole galaxy is watching."
He nodded over to one of his many droids that was holding a high end camera. Maristela wanted to use the Force to destroy the droid. Something about a camera pointing at her that she could not control deeply upset her. It surprised her how much it disturbed her, but she used her teachings to let the annoyance go.
"This is an interview for the Jedi, not for you, Mr. Bee," Maristela spoke in her calmest courtroom voice. "You will have to leave."
"Wait," the Twi'lek girl interrupted. "Why don't we make this a double interview? One for the Jedi and the other for Mr. Bee? The public would love that."
A loud slap echoed through the room as Bee struck his hand against his ample thigh. "That is a great idea. How about a little question for a question?"
The face of the Jedi remained as still as pooled water, but inside she felt a mixture of foreboding and opportunity. This was a chance to get answers that the Jedi Council had been seeking for years. However, it was risky to answer questions from someone as well informed as Bee.
"Fine," Maristela said, taking her seat across from the lounging man. "But I ask the first question."
The camera crew and droids took their places and began the broadcast. The female Twi'lek took on the role of the host instead of the interviewer. After the introductions were made to the billions watching, the first question was asked.
"What is your true name?" the Jedi prosecutor asked.
"I call myself Bee. I am known as Bee. Legally, for taxes and corporations, I am called Bee," he answered.
"No, you misunderstand my question," Maristela pressed. "What is the name you were called before you took the name Bee?"
"I have been called many things," Bee replied smoothly. "For instance, the Brotherhood of Darkness called me the Killer Whale because of my vast size. They did not say it to my face, though. Well, at least not the ones who are still alive."
Maristela huffed. She was used to the non answers that lawyers gave and was ready with a sharper version of the question.
"What name did your parents give you?" she asked.
"My mother called me Bee Bee," Bee answered without a hint of shame.
"That is not what I am asking," Maristela began, but she was interrupted by Bee raising his fat hand.
Bee put down his cup and shuffled himself into a sitting position. "That is three questions. I think it is my turn to ask a question or two."
Maristela paused and looked at the surrounding cameras. She was not satisfied with his answers, but a deal was a deal, especially one made in front of the entire galaxy.
"I wonder, I wonder," Bee said, pausing for a long time. The silence was only broken by the sound of him rubbing his hands together, which sounded like sandpaper on stone. "My first question is, what question should I ask you that the galaxy would find enjoyable?"
Maristela did not understand immediately. The question was open ended, but it quickly dawned on her that Bee was fishing for information he could use against her. It was a tactic used by Republic officers when apprehending a suspect. She had used the same technique many times to corner a defendant.
"I am not sure what you mean," Maristela deflected.
"Are you telling me, and by extension the galaxy, that with the long history of the Jedi and their many adventures, not one thing would interest the people?" Bee asked. "It is not good to lie, Master Jedi."
"The Jedi do not lie," Maristela sputtered.
She felt her internal composure slipping as Bee looked directly into the camera lens with a look that suggested he knew her statement was false. Before she could collect herself, she went back on the attack.
"I suppose you never lie or even break the law?" she demanded.
The fat man chuckled into a napkin before tossing the cloth over his lap. "I lie all the time, and there are very few laws I haven't broken. But of course, I might be lying right now."
"Are you guilty of murder?" Maristela asked, her voice turning cold and sharp.
She watched Bee closely for any body language that might reveal his thoughts. The Force told her to be careful, but nothing else. Her mind probe turned up absolutely nothing. The fat man looked up and then waved to a droid holding a platter of sweet bread. He took a roll, broke the crust, and took a long breath of the aroma.
"Delicious," Bee said. "This bread was made on the one hundred and forty first level of Coruscant in the Grog Sector by Master Baker Dunta Seer. Go visit them for a free loaf. It is only for the first hundred thousand customers, and it is on me."
Maristela was baffled. He was advertising bread on a galactic broadcast. She was relieved when he finally returned to her question.
"To answer your question, yes," Bee said, his tone suddenly serious. "I am guilty of killing. And not just one person, but many to whom I have shown no mercy."
Maristela felt a surge of triumph. I have you now, she thought.