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Once again Umber could not quite conceal his surprise. He looked questioningly at Dejah, who nodded reassuringly. “It’s all right, Vlaçan. You can trust this one. He’s bound himself to help me find Ves’s killer.”

“I—see.” Despite the Zeltron’s assurance, the Vindalian’s skepticism was obvious. He looked at Jax again, his gaze much more critical this time. “Are you—affiliated with the sector police?”

Jax found himself more amused than irritated by the Baron’s obvious disdain. “I’m an independent investigative agent. Dejah asked me to pursue this matter through unofficial channels.”

Keeping his eyes on Jax, Umber addressed his next question to the Zeltron. “Are you sure this is wise, Dejah? For one thing, I strongly doubt that any facts or evidence uncovered by this method will be considered admissible in a tribunal.”

It was I-Five who responded to that. “Actually, the law admits evidence submitted by outside sources on deontological grounds.”

The Vindalian’s gaze narrowed as he regarded the mechanical. “I don’t recall anyone giving you permission to speak, droid. Nor do I require instruction in legal proceedings from a nonspecialist device.”

“A knowledge of the law, especially as it relates to Imperial dictates, is an important facet of protocol,” I-Five said. “You must admit that these days, with new laws being promulgated every day and old ones revised or eliminated, it is next to impossible even for specialists in such matters to keep up. You need not be embarrassed to confess ignorance in such matters.”

The Baron seemed on the verge of apoplexy. “I was not confessing anything!” he sputtered. “Least of all ignorance! Of all the—”

Reaching out, Dejah put a hand on his arm. The Zeltron touch was enough to calm their host somewhat. He was by no means pacified, however. He stared hard at I-Five. “You’re right, however. Today’s statute is tomorrow’s misdemeanor, so to speak. None of which addresses the matter of you speaking unbidden.”

Jax hastened to interpose himself between the two. “I-Five’s encoding has been modified. He doesn’t always react like your standard protocol model.” The Jedi glanced warningly at the droid. “Sometimes he suffers from an intermittent glitch known as Big Mouth Syndrome.”

I-Five projected annoyance. “The dimensions of my verbal simulation orifice are absolutely factory-standard.”

“Maybe,” Jax said, “but the brain behind it sure isn’t. You will show our host proper respect.”

A moment of uncomfortable silence ensued as the Jedi glared at the droid. Then I-Five turned to face Baron Umber and bowed slightly from the waist.

“My sincere apologies, sir, if I have inadvertently offended you.”

“And …?” Jax prompted him.

I-Five’s immobile metal countenance somehow managed to look disdainful—or perhaps Jax was reading too much into it. He hoped so, at any rate. “I also regret speaking out of turn,” the droid continued.

Umber was mollified. “Well, no harm done, no insult intended. Especially if, as you say, this model’s programming has been clumsily personalized.”

“Clumsily?” I-Five echoed. “May I just point out that—”

“—our questions will be concise and our time here brief,” Jax hastily concluded for the droid, punctuating his assurance with a glare in I-Five’s direction that fell just short of melting several of the softer alloys. He stepped between the droid and their host, blocking the former’s view from the latter. “Dejah tells me,” he continued, “that you’re a longtime collector of the late Ves Volette’s work.”

Umber gestured assent. Turning, he indicated the alcoves where many of the artist’s finest creations twirled and flashed in syncopated brilliance. By themselves, they provided more than enough light to illuminate the end of the room in which they were displayed.

“From the moment I encountered his works I knew I had to have one,” the Baron said. “The first led to a second, the second demanded a third to offset its shape and style, and by the time I determined to purchase a fourth and fifth, I counted myself not merely a patron of Ves Volette, but his friend.