A Dead Senator, a Dangerous Assignment

[Trenton Vinh]

The sleek black X-wing fighter exited Hyperspace, alone.
the barren area of deep space was just far enough from Republic space to be a haven for smugglers and criminals, slavers and pirates.

My kind of people. Thought the lone occupant.

For a moment, Jonathan Rohaeus eyed the stars on the other side of his canopy, a grim smile on his face. Out here, there was more than just lack of oxygen and life. There was lack of...well, everything.

Its been said many times that those who are most comfortable in space, are those who are lonely souls, those who find the extreme isolation comforting.
Jonathan was one of these people, to a point. He certainly felt like a lonely soul sometimes, but he hadn't always been that way.
For his short life, he had experienced much in the way of loss and grief. The lessons he drew from these experiences were grim ones. Keep few close, trust even fewer.

As his eyes were drawn to a particular cluster of stars in the distance, a small shuttle appeared in his vision, having exited Hyperspace right in front of him.
Jon jerked his head back until he felt the soft padded material of his seat. He had been expecting the arrival of the shuttle, but not so soon.

Guess this guy is in a rush. He sighed inwardly, squealers were always wound too tightly.

His comm beeped, indicating a message.
Jon tapped the button without looking, his eyes still on the shuttle before him, the only sight besides the countless stars.

"Mister Rohaeus?" The nervous human in the shuttle asked, his voice issuing from the speakers in Jon's flight helmet.

"How are you, Herst?" Jon replied lazily. This man was clearly on edge, but he had good reason. He had been a witness to the conspirators who had assassinated a popular senator in the running for Chief of State...assassinated by a mad Jedi.

'Herst' was the name the man had chosen to use, for safety reasons he wouldn't admit to his true identity.
"I'm alright, just a bit shaken. You understand. I had to move my family off Coruscant; too dangerous there, you understand."

Jon nodded, then remembered the man couldn't see him, and said quickly "Yes, I do. So tell me what you heard, exactly as you heard it. Don't worry, you're safe here. If anyone shows up in this system, they'll be too busy dealing with my torpedoes to attack you."

This, for some reason, only seemed to add to the man's tension. His voice cracked when he responded, "Excellent. I suppose I should start from the very beginning."

Jon nodded again, but this time didn't bother speaking. Instead he tapped a button on his datapad, which was linked to his X-wing's command console. It would record the rest of their conversation.
Jon had been hired by the Jedi Council to investigate the death of the Senator, a human named Lance Henrikson. The Jedi Council had argued that it made no sense for the Jedi Order to have plotted the assassination, Lance had been an outspoken supporter of the Jedi, surely they would have wanted him elected to aid their failing influence in the Republic. Jon had agreed, out of his own respect for the Jedi, and because he could always use the credits.

Herst started from the top, "It was about a week before the assassination, this must have been one of the conspirators final meetings before they...before they killed Lance Henrikson. I was at the cantina after a long day at the shop, you understand..." He prattled on, Jon listening intently,
"There was three of them. Two were already there when I arrived, they were sitting at the table behind me, I was at the bar, you understand. Both were human, the one that arrived soon after I did was Zabrak. I could tell by his facial tattoo and horns, you understand. He was wearing dark robes. I thought he was a Jedi, too, he had a lightsaber, you understand."

Jon stopped him there, "He had a lightsaber?" he asked incredulously. Perhaps there was some Jedi involvement in all this.

Herst stopped for a moment, then said, "I'm nearly sure it was a lightsaber. I mean, I didn't take the time to stare at it, but it looked like one. Silver and cylindrical, and awfully long. I figured it was some kind of special design, it was longer than I thought lightsabers are, this one was nearly twice the length of the ones I've seen in pictures and such. Anyways, the Zabrak sat down with the others, and didn't even order a drink. When he sat the other two went totally quiet, and listened to him without speaking. I almost thought they were afraid of him, the way they looked at him, you understand. So I was sipping my drink, but I had this weird feeling, like this was some kind of illegal deal or something, and I figured I should try to listen in to hear what was going on. Seems this Zabrak was something of a Bounty Hunter or something, he said he was holding the Jedi in his ship and would release him when the time was right."

Jon asked, "The Jedi must be the one who assassinated..."
Herst jumped in, finishing the sentence for Jon, "Lance Henrikson. Yes, I'm almost sure he was talking about the Jedi that killed Lance. The other two men said that was excellent, and then one slipped the Zabrak a small container, a sort of capsule filled with a dark liquid. I couldn't tell what it was, but it must have been something of value, because the Zabrak handed them a stack of credits that could have bought a starship! One of the men said, 'This should be enough to convince the Jedi to killthe Senator.' The Zabrak left shortly after, and not long after that, the other two got up to leave as well. At this point, I knew something weird was going down, so I downed my Corellian ale. I followed them when they left."

Jon was surprised at this admission. This timid man clearly had a bit more courage than he appeared to. Jon felt his respect for the man rise a bit, he had risked his life following the conspirators.

"Where did they go?" Jon asked.

Herst giggled a bit, almost as if he was on the edge of his nerves, or as if his next words were going to sound funny, "They went to the Senate buildings."

Jon's eyebrows raised a bit, "You mean as visitors, right?"

Herst giggled a bit more, his giggle more high-pitched than it had been a moment ago, "I believe so. They went to the office of the Internal Activities Committee. I couldn't follow them in, of course, but I know what they were going to do, I heard them mention it on the trip, you understand."

Jon ignored the man's repeated use of the term you understand, because this time he definitely did not understand.
"What were they going there for?"

"To meet with Senator Rikter, of course!", giggled Herst.

Jon felt a flash of confusion, "You mean these men went from meeting with the person who prepared the murder of Lance Henrikson, then marched over to the IAC and had a meeting with the Senator leading the IAC?"

"Exactly! Isn't it brilliant? It makes perfect sense. The Senator in charge of making sure all the other Senators don't do anything illegal, is in fact doing something incredibly illegal himself, plotting a murder!"

Jon found this statement to be a bit ridiculous. He would have to meet with this Senator Rikter and ask him a few questions.

"You're absolutely sure about this?" Jon asked, wondering if perhaps Herst had consumed more Corellian Ale than he cared to admit.

Herst's voice grew serious now, and he responded roughly, "I know what I know, Rohaeus. But there is one more bit of information I can give you: Don't trust Rikter. I met him on Mon Calamari once, and he is a dangerous man. He is very smart, and calculating. You know those kinds of people who always know more than they let on...He's one of those people. When he looked at me, I swear he saw more than my face....it was almost like he saw through me, into my mind and heart and soul."

Jon's eyebrows had risen so high they weren't even visible behind his visor, "Thank you very much for your information, Herst. I'll see to it that you are repaid for your services to the Republic. What you did was very brave, you have my thanks."

Jon could almost hear the relief in the man's voice when he responded, "Thank you, Rohaeus. This is quite a burden off my chest as well. I must return to my family, we are still settling in to our new life, you understand. I hope you can find the truth with the information I gave you. Good luck."

With a beep and a crackle of static, the comm channel was closed. Moments later, the shuttle disappeared into Hyperspace. Leaving Jon in its wake, staring at the stars the shuttle had previously hidden from his view.
He took a moment to lavish in the isolation of space, then dialed in the simple coordinates for Coruscant, without the use of his navcomputer to assist his calculations. He had made these specific jumps a hundred times before.
With a flash, his X-wing disappeared into Hyperspace as well, leaving behind only the absence of matter in the void of deep space.

[Kael Serasai]

Death sticks changed hands, or supplements of Ryll and Glitterstim to the equivalent of the cost of the current stakes; lowlifes didn't care what gave them their fix, so long as the high was good and the side-effects curable with a shot of some other illicit substance. Kael couldn't pass judgement, for he was sitting at the same table, sabaac slates held loosely in his fingers. Not all of his intoxication was feigned, even with use of the Force to suppress the effects. He'd come here to dig for information, and so far had come out with nothing to show for it except a depleted wallet and enough narcotic in his system to blow the circuit boards of any police droid that might happen to stop him for a spot-check.

And he was slowly coming to the realisation that he sucked at card games.

A fairly low-end cantina, especially considering it wasn't even in the underlevels of Coruscant, the establishment was typically privy to these sorts of off-the-books engagements. The same could be said of most cantina's though; if there was a back room or a privacy booth to be found, the punters would fill it with as many drugs, credits and cards as possible, and all the landlord asked in return was that they keep the drinks coming in steady.
Steady, in this particular case, meaning a round of Flameout at the beginning, middle, and end of each game.
"Looking a bit wrung out there, boy" one of the players laughed, a burly Besalisk, who slapped him roughly on the back with one of his four huge hands. Kael stared up at him through heavy, red-rimmed eyes, and forced his best stupid grin. At least, he told himself it was forced, but the line between acting and doing was beginning to blur as much as his vision.
"I don't think the new guy can handle his junk" another player growled, jerking a thumb in Kael's direction.
"Could be worse" Kael slurred back at the Devaronian, purposefully dropping one of his slates, incase he needed to further sell the idea that he was wasted beyond doubt. "Could be dead. Like that Senator guy, whassisname..."
"Henriksen?" the Devaronian said, while Kael fumbled around for his Sabaac slate, slipping a micro-decryptor into its datajack.
"Thats the guy" he confirmed. "Saw it on HNN. Stabbed in the head by a Jedi. What a way to go..."
"Yeah, there was a bit o' hear-say going on here after it happened" the Devaronian murmered, activating another game as the drinks were brought in. Flameout's were handed out, the serving girl casting a dubious glance at Kael, who winked in return.

"Should stop talkin' bout that, Marno" the Besalisk said to the Devaronian, his voice tense and almost threatening.
"Nah, little... what you say your name is?"
"Caden" Kael lied.
"Little Caden here ain't gonna squeel to no-one, he won't even remember he was here after all he's had to drink" Marno reasoned.
"And the drinks' not all" chuckled Grellia, a female Squib, who was busy pouring the contents of a deathstick into her Flameout.
"Anyway... a Zabraki hotshot comes in last week, all robed like, and says something about a Jedi in his ship. Few of us heard, and thought nothin' of it. Til the killing, anyway" Marno elaborated, leaning through the score and balance projections floating over the table, his voice hushed and conspiratorial.
"And then what did we make of it?" Kemi the Besalisk asked, boredly, his lower arms folded and his upper arms occupying his Sabaac slates and drink. Evidently, he was doubtful that the incidents were related, but his earlier tension suggested that he was worried about somehow having his name tied to the murder inquiry.

"Well, o' course it made sense, the Zabrak was probably some sorta hunter, and he lost his cargo. Explains why some Jedi was seen killin' the future Chief o' State, doesn't it?" Marno said, winking and sitting back in his seat.
"Sure" Kael muttered. To him, it made no sense at all; infact, it just made things cloudier.
"Anyway, its none of our concern" Kemi said, downing his drink. "Only people gotta worry about it is the authorities and Senator Rikter. Looks like he's got a fine job on his hands, this whole mess to clean up. HNN says he's in the running for the top job, now Henriksen's been offed".
"And you've told none of this to the authorities?" Kael asked, playing stupid.
"Hell no!" Grellia the Squib shrieked. "The guy who's seat your butt is parked in, he moved his whole family off Coruscant".
"Why?" Kael snorted. The idea was ridiculous. Then again, the people here were ridiculous, by all accounts, wasting their lives on drugs, drink, and cards.
"Dunno" Grellia hissed. "Not heard from any of 'em since!"
Kael got the impression that he was to take this to mean that their friend had vanished conspicuously. He neglected to point out that, in moving from the capital, their friend was likely too paranoid to make contact with anyone still on it.
"We gonna play Sabaac, or not?" Kemi asked boredly, his now-free hand propping up his drooping head.

"Count me out" Kael slurred, standing up - noting that the slight wobble in his stance was not forced - and pulling up the hood of his sleeveless tunic.
"Too drunk?" Marno chuckled.
"Too broke, actually" Kael replied. It was a complete lie; circumstance had led him to a small fortune in credits, but unfortunately, the more of them he dropped while on Coruscant, the more likely he was to be discovered. Coming face to face with the bastards who abandoned him in the first place was not top of the agenda. The only reason he was concerned with the purported Jedi murderer was because he owed him a debt...
"Coming back tomorrow?" asked Kemi, resetting the table for three players.
"Nah. Forget you ever saw me" he insisted, his words punctuated with Force suggestion. As one, the card players turned away from him, and continued to chat in low tones among themselves.

Kael exited through the little-used back door of the cantina, reaching up into the back of his tunic and removing a long pole, wrapped in crimson cloth which trailed from the pommel. His lightsaber, longer and sleeker than most, slotted perfectly into the sheath he wore strapped to his back, now in easy reach. In the cantina, he'd sufficed with displaying only the blaster holstered at his side, but in his imminent search for - and interrogation of - Senator Rikter, he had a feeling that a more civillised device of intimidation was called for.

[Trenton Vinh]

Sitting in Senator Rikter's waiting room, Jon Rohaeus sighed boredly, glancing at his chrono. He had been sitting here for close to an hour and a half -- surely the Neimoidian Senator's business was not so important as to take up a large portion of Rikter's schedule.
And yet here he was, wasting his valuable time, the only seemingly productive thing he had done so far was ellicit several blushes from Rikter's cute Twi'lek secretary, who seemed to enjoy watching Jon grow more and more impatient as time wore on.
She had brought him a hot cup of caff about twenty minutes ago, and it was steadily growing cooler in his hand. He sipped the lukewarm liquid, noting how much sugar the green-skinned Twi had put into it. He smiled at her after he lowered the cup, and she blushed again before returning to her paperwork.
Jon was tempted to give her his comm number, but it was likely that she knew nothing of Rikter's involvement into the assassination of Lance Henrikson. As he was preparing to stand up and initiate conversation with the young woman, the doors to Rikter's office opened.
Two Neimoidian's left the room in a huff, muttering to one another in Pak Pak, the Neimoidian native tongue.

Watching them carefully, Jon took little from their conversation. The language of Neimoidians was one of deep guttural throat noises and complex hand gestures. All Jon understood from what was said before they disappeared into the turbolifts was, "neet moor tyme cho consider da deel. Myo not fee werr vonst."
which roughly translated as, "I need some time to consider this deal, but I wish to lie down first ."

The doors shut behind the pair of aliens, before Jon could glance in to spot the Senator in charge of the Internal Affairs Committee.
Noting Jon's eagerness, the Twi'lek secretary gave him a smile and stated,
"Senator Rikter will be ready for you shortly, Mister Rohaeus."

Jon nodded his thanks to her and leaned back into his chair, rubbing his eyes slowly. He slid his hand down his face in an effort to keep himself awake. This investigation had been keeping him awake for three days, and he needed to be on edge for this...interview.

Finally, the doors to Rikter's office opened on their own, and the secretary said, "The Senator will see you now, thank you for your patience, Detective Rohaeus."

Jon waved to her passively as he hopped to his feet and started for the door. He entered the brightly lit office and took its details in within a single glance. Busts of the previous holders of this Office lined the circular rooms deep crimson walls. Senator Griegorey Rikter sat at an Endorian Oak desk, before a transparisteel-wall view of the Coruscant skyline.
The room was somewhat bare, and Jon noted a subtle crack in one of the walls -- no doubt a safe-room or hidden exit for Rikter.

"Ah, Detective Rohaeus. Please, take a seat, my apologies for the wait."
Jon ignored Rikter's false smile and didn't return it, dropping into one of the two seats in front of the desk. The chair was plushy and soft, the cushion matched the deep red of the walls.

Jon drew his datapad from a pocket and glanced at it casually, drawing up a report on Rikter. He looked at the photo of a much younger Rikter, before raising his eyes to look at the real-life version, noting the lines under the man's eyes, and the graying hair at his temples.
Jon said, "Senator Griegorey Rikter, good to finally get the chance to meet with you."
Rikter's smile never faltered -- it was as stony as the man's eyes, which betrayed no emotion.
"Like I said, apologies for the wait. You know how Neimoidian's can get, Senator Croelinns thought that by debating the tarrifs on trading for as long as possible that he could somehow convince me to lower them. Just because he is a Senator, does not mean he receives lowered taxes. Such is the day of the head of the IAC"

Jon ignored the banter and got to the point, "I'm here because your name came up during my investigation into the murder of Senator Lance Henrikson."

The false smile disappeared from Rikter's face, but the crinkles around his eyes remained. The narrowed pupils betrayed only his intense focus on Jon, "I know probably less about Senator Henrikson's murder than you do, Detective. But I assure you, I will aid you however I can in the hopes that the perpetrators are brought to justice."

Jon wanted to roll his eyes, but settled with fring back, "Then you can start by giving me the names of the low-lives you met with shortly before Henrikson's assassination. You know the ones I mean, they were involved in the murder plot."

Rikter was quiet for a moment, and the tension between the two men was palpable. Rikter stared into Jon's eyes, and neither man blinked nor looked away. Jon had the irking feeling that Rikter was reading his thoughts, seeing into his soul, and taking from him all his secrets.
After the subtle staring contest ended with Rikter blinking and looking down at his console, the Senator said, "I will certainly give you their address. The men I met with were...involved, yes. But they did not break any laws, nor should they be arrested. In fact, they came to me for advice, in the hopes that I would be able to help them. I encouraged them to remain in hiding. My secretary can give you their address after our meeting."

Jon nodded slowly, and pushed his advantage -- he had caught the man in a bad spot, he had given advice to conspirators in the murder of another Senator.
"Why did you not report this meeting to the proper authorities?" Jon queried.
Rikter stopped typing on hs console, but did not look up, "I did not think they were this...ah...deep into the conspiracy. All I knew was that they had given an alleged Dark Jedi a mind-altering toxin. This toxin turned out to be the one that caused the Jedi to kill poor Lance. I had not understood the gravity and seriousness of the meeting at the time. Now, of course, it would only create more hell within the Senate if I reported it. The Holonews would have a field day. I would be ousted from my position!"
Jon let some anger show in his voice -- a ploy to get Rikter uncomfortable and defensive in the hopes of letting something slip, "Your offices integrity is irrelevant in the matter! Any citizen aware of dealings with Dark Force Users should report the incident immediately!"
Rikter looked somewhat shocked, but he hid it well. Politicians.
"I did what I thought best, Rohaeus! Do not expect me to come running to the Jedi or to CorSec every time I hear of a Dark Jedi or Sith planning something. I'd come across as a lunatic, do you know how many threats my Office receives from terrorists and thugs as it is?"

Jon smirked, he had the Senator on edge, feeling defensive, and had some leverage to boot,
"Regardless, Senator. Your dereliction of duty will not go unpunished. I will be reporting this to CSec authorities after our meeting. I have a few more questions, if you don't mind."
Rikter shot back, "I certainly do mind, but if you insist."

Jon took a slow breath, looking over his datapad for no reason other than dramatic effect. He spoke slowly, in a measured tone, "As head of the IAC, who doo you answer to, and who keeps an eye on your dealings, to ensure all is legal?"
Rikter looked irritated, "I answer to the Senate, but more directly to the Chief of State. My job is to keep the other Senators in check, and to make sure they are all on a relatively even playing ground when they meet. I'm sure you can appreciate how difficult that is, having yourself dealt with the Senate in the past. The only ones that keep an eye on me personally are the Jedi, who seem to be paranoid."

Jon nodded slowly, and asked his next question, "And where were you during Henrikson's assassination?"
Rikter swallowed noticeably, and responded, "I was in my Office here. His public appearance was just outside, I saw the assassination from my desk. Quite disturbing. An awful way to die..." He trailed off.
Jon nodded again, and tossed a trio of photos of the post-mortem murder victim onto the desk. Rikter paled as he saw the pictures. The murder was bloodless, lightsaber wounds do not bleed; but there is nothing pretty about a wide-eyed human with an inch-wide hold through his forehead.

Jon asked another question, "And what would you have to gain from Henrikson's death?"
Rikter seemed genuinely distraught now, and stammered, "Well...very little. I...I had not even considered running for...I would not make a good Chief of State you see...Not the leader type..."
Jon asked his last question, "What would you have to gain from removing the Jedi from Galactic Affairs?"
Rikter made eye contact with Jon, his face showing all the signs of an innocent man, but his eyes betrayed his true emotion -- that is, his eyes showed that his facial emotions were calculated, planned, and all an act.
"I would have nothing to gain at all. The Jedi have proven time and time again that they can protect the Republic better than our entire Military. It would help me get some work done more...efficiently, but only because I could bend a few rules to achieve my goals. I'm sure they told you all about me when they asked you to investigate Henrikson's death, there's nothing more I could tell you than you already know."

Jon nodded slowly, eyes lowering to his datapad as he tapped uselessly against the touchscreen. He had not told anyone that the Jedi had asked him to investigate the murder. Rikter knew more than he was letting on, but even had he not mentioned Jon's ties to the Jedi, he would have known.
Rikter was involved more than Jon knew, but he had to prove it before he could act on it.

"Thank you for your time, Senator. If there is anything else you wish to tell me, you have my comm number."
Rikter nodded stiffly and replied, "Thank you, detective. Good luck with your investigation."

Jon stood and left the office, allowing the doors to slide shut behind him before taking the address of the conspirators from Rikter's secretary.
Jon entered the turbolift with a feeling of both confusion and energetic elation; this investigation was getting both more interesting and more disturbing. If Rikter was as deeply tied into things as he suspected, the Senate would be in chaos by the time this ended, and Jon would either be given a medal...or thrown into a prison with the ones who had killed Lance Henrikson.

[Kael Serasai]

The effects of the toxins Kael had pumped into his own body during his foray into Sabaac were far worse than he'd first anticipated; as such, his journey to confront the next link in his investigation had been cut short, and rather than questioning Senator Rikter with the business end of a lightsaber, he'd spent three hours in a back alley trying to get up off the floor.

Perhaps it was a good thing, too. Normally, he had the discipline to rein in his impulses, but he was never the model Jedi to begin with, and under the influence of substances both legal and not, his foresight had disappeared. If he'd been in any fit state to travel, he'd have arrived at the Senate building, probably caused a scene, and would now be sitting in a cell. Not to mention that the Jedi would become aware of his presence on Coruscant, and he was all too happy to let them go on thinking he was dead. They'd abandoned him two years ago, the same way they'd abandoned his Master, and in turn he'd abandoned them. He knew their numbers were thinning, and their standing both with the public and the Senate was dwindling, but he no longer had it in him to play mascot for a dying Order.

Perhaps, under different circumstances, he'd be worried about such thoughts. Often in the past, Jedi had left the Order under various circumstances, and they all ended up falling to darkness. But this wasn't the Dark Side. He'd seen the ugly face of evil, and this was worse. At least the Dark Side was identifiable, and those that followed it could be struck down for the greater good. Even the Sith had their purposes, for without their breed of taint, the light would be hard to identify.
Kael, he was just walking a tightrope over a chasm with no bottom. His Master would have called it 'keeping perspective', or 'doing what needs to be done', but Kael didn't know what to think of it.

The lock clicked open with a gentle appliance of Force pressure, and with another slight exertion, the alarm system and security cameras were disabled. As he stepped into the office, Kael half expected assassin droids or some other hidden security measure that he hadn't detected, but surprisingly, there were none. Apparently, the head of the IAC wasn't as paranoid as Kael had anticipated.
Much as he still wanted to confront Rikter face-to-face, it was a heavily flawed plan. For one thing, Kael wasn't officially assigned to this case by any authority other than his own. Second, the only reason he was so interested in Rikter was because his name had come up in conversation about the murder, and it seemed that Rikter was indeed the only man to gain anything from Henriksen's death. And so, refreshed and with a clearer mind, he'd come not to the Senate building, but the squat IAC building located on the other side of the plaza, miniscule against the backdrop of cloudcutters that overshadowed it.

The cool grey of dawn was beginning to filter in through the half-closed blinds at the transparisteel wall to the rear of the office, and for the first time Kael noticed how spartan it was. He'd expected lavish decor, but all he found was a simple desk with stacks of flimsi mounted haphazardly on its scratched black surface, and a terminal bolted to the floor beside it. In one corner of the room was a filing cabinet, and in the other, a caf dispenser. There were no potted plants, no elaborate paintings, no expensive statues. A complete contrast to what he'd expected.
Remaining cautious of any other security devices, Kael edged around the desk. He ran a gloved thumb down the stack of flimsi, deciding it would be unproductive to start searching each and every sheet for some obscure clue to his investigation.

The terminal, however, was a safer bet. Turning it on, he waited the few seconds it took for the machine to load, then waved a hand over the console itself when a hologram flickered to life, asking for his passcode. He wasn't brilliant at manipulating machinary; locks and cameras were one thing, but tricking artificial intelligence was more than a case of crossing a wire here, or shorting out a circuit there. After a couple of tries, however, the hologram flashed green, and displayed a long list of files.
"This is gonna take a while" he sighed under his breath, looking at each individual file name and hoping one stood out. It was ludicrous to expect to find "Senator Henriksen murder plot" among them, but at this point, the trail was beginning to run dry. Everything seemed to be general business-related documents from the IAC, which struck Kael as odd; surely, in Rikter's private office, would be his personal files? This uncluttered mess looked like it belonged in the terminal of someone lower down the chain, an archiver perhaps.

His attention was caught by an icon on the holographic display, which was more than just a regular file or document cache. It was simply labelled "S.N", but before he had chance to investigate further, he felt something nagging at the back of his mind. He reached out, and felt the presence of three people approaching the office door.
With a swipe of his hand, he shut the terminal down, and as the door opened up and voices droned in from the outer corridor, he did the most ludicrous thing he could think of; he hid under the desk.
"... need to get the auto-lock repaired again" a voice said in clipped tones; tones which matched those of Griegorey Rikter, from what little Kael had witnessed on the HoloNet. "Remind me to take it out on that Twi'lek girl" he concluded.

From beneath the desk, Kael could see little but their feet, which wasn't helpful at all. Fortunately, he could hear what they were saying, as could his comm, which he'd managed to slip out of his belt and set to record.
"Is there a problem with how things turned out?" one voice asked; there was nothing in the voice that struck Kael as extraordinary, so there was no chance of identifying species other than 'Humanoid'.
"A very slight problem in the form of one Jonathan Rohaeus" the Senator replied curtly; Kael could sense his anger and tension, but as a warrior of the political arena, Rikter was more than practiced in holding such emotions at bay. Kael could envision the Senator smiling the whole time.

"Never heard of 'im" the third person said. A rustling sound, and seconds later, something slapped onto the desk above Kael's head; the stack of flimsi's collapsed, many of them skidding along the smooth floor and scattering across the room. Nobody moved to tidy the mess.
"This is the man himself" Rikter replied, ever the voice of calm collection. "He came to my office yesterday afternoon, making enquiries".
"About Henriksen?" the first voice asked.
"About the subject of the operation" Rikter replied, which Kael took as an affirmative.
"What is he, a P.I?" the second voice chimed in.
"He's exactly that, and after a little digging, it turns out he's a particularly good P.I" Rikter answered.
"It's alright, he won't be able to track us down" the first voice assured the Senator.
"But of course he will. I gave him your address" Rikter said coolly. Panic flooded through the Force, along with a sense of betrayal and outrage.
"You did WHAT?" the second voice cried, skidding on a piece of flimsiplast and steadying himself on the desk; Kael cringed as it tilted upward several centimeters under the sudden weight, but it didn't overturn, instead crashing back to its footing on the floor.
"I gave him your address" Rikter repeated sharply. "I expect he'll be giving you a call any time soon, to investigate your involvement in the killing of Lance Henriksen".
"And you want us to finish him off?" asked the first voice.
"See, there is an iota of human intelligence to be found among paid thugs" Rikter sneered. "Yes, finish him off before he gets chance to sniff out anything else of importance. I'd like his search to remain futile, and I certainly don't want any of his discoveries leaked to the wrong ears" Rikter warned. "Soon, this case will come to a close and be forgotten about".
"And then what?" asked the second thug.
"Then... well, you'll see soon enough. Go" he instructed. There was no argument, just the scuffing of boots on the polished floor as the two thugs left the office.

"What a mess" the impeccable Senator sighed. Kael assumed he meant the flimsiplast on the floor. "You'd may as well show yourself, hiding under the desk must be awfully uncomfortable".
Damn.
Kael extracted himself gingerly, feeling a little foolish and disarmed. Any other Jedi would have been in and out in no time, found what they were looking for, and not been caught at the scene when the Senator returned. Any other Jedi, but not Kael.
"Now, how to deal with you" Senator Rikter mused to himself. "Protocol for dealing with trespassers is to call the police. Protocol for punishing corporate espionage is... well, severe" the Senator chuckled uncharacteristically. "Protocol for dealing with errant Jedi is to contact the Order for a retrieval, so... which is it to be?"
"How about 'none of the above'?" Kael replied, his confidence returning. "How about I hand in my comm to the authorities, and let them handle you from there?"
"Ah, I did notice your comm unit. It's design is what gave you away as a Jedi, actually. I assume that's also your lightsaber?" the Senator asked, nodding at the pole extending over his right shoulder from its sheath.
"I don't think you heard..."
"Your recording is useless. This entire building is proofed with ultrasonic scramblers, or something like that. The technological term is lost on me, but I assure you, you have nothing of worth" Rikter interrupted, his smile ever present.

"What makes you so sure there is even anything of worth to be found?" the Senator continued. "Everything you've witnessed has led to nothing conclusive. Yes, Henriksen and I were political rivals, but that doesn't mean I had him killed. You should look to your own people for the answer to that one" he smirked.
"He was a good man" Kael said through gritted teeth. "He was manipulated into that murder. All I have to do is prove it".
"And then what? Both times I've mentioned the Jedi Order, you've deftly avoided reacting, which leads me to suspect you're in this alone" Senator Rikter observed, and his piercing gaze sent a chill down Kael's spine.
"How do you know I'm not working with Rohaeus?" Kael spat back in return.
"Because you're not running to save his life" was the answer.

Stang.
Without waiting for another word from the cunning Senator, Kael bolted to the door, opened it by hand, and ran as fast as the Force could carry him into the corridor beyond. He heard Rikter speaking into a comm, mentioning the words 'police', 'break-in' and 'fire', but he had no time now for the Senator. If he hurried, he could catch up to the pair of thugs that had left a minute earlier, and follow them, to prevent yet another murder...

[Trenton Vinh]

Jonathan Rohaeus knocked on the door. He knocked again. Then again.
He had taken the address from Rikter, and immediately come to the location, which turned out to be a slum. Dingy, dim and disgusting, were words that could be used to describe it. He had expected no better, but had hoped that the rumored conspirators in the murder of Lance Henrikson would reside in a relatively sanitary abode.

Jon sighed, glancing up and down the hallways of the apartment complex; deserted, save for a small vermin that he couldn't identify from this distance. The tiny creature scurried away, around the corner at the end of the hall and off to its home that was probably cleaner than the floors of the rest of the complex.
Jon stepped back casually, as if preparing to leave, then lunged forward and kicked the door near its lock mechanism.
The shabby metal lock shattered and the door flew inward, bouncing off the wall and swinging back to close.
Jon was already inside the apartment when the door swung back shut, and he grabbed the first chair he could see to wedge the door shut.
The loud crack had no doubt alerted someone, but he had the feeling no one would care.
Judging by the look of the place, breaking in to houses was likely a profession for most tenants.

Jon looked around the apartment quickly. It was sparse, a narrow hallway leading to two small bedrooms beside one another to his left, with a small refresher between them. To the right, a kitchen and a small living area. The dining room was to the immediate left of the entrance.
He eyed the dining room from where he had grabbed the chair, noting that the 'table' was a pair of crates covered in dirty cups and plates.

Spotting nothing of interest, Jon proceeded down the hall, poking his head in each bedroom first, finding only filthy rags on the floors, unmade beds against the walls, and more small vermin crawling around.
The living area had a plasteel couch, mounted to the floor. The material on it was dusty and tattered, peeling in places. There was a vidscreen on the wall, no doubt the most expensive thing in the apartment.
In the kitchen area, Jon found something much more interesting than any viddoc the vidscreen could possibly broadcast.

On the outdated and dirty counter was what appeared to be a chemistry set. Vials and test tubes littered the rest of the space in the room, and in the cooling unit sat dozens of vials and bottles containing liquids of all colors.
Jon eyed the liquids wearily, wishing the men had written their contents on the blank labels. He optimistically hoped to see a chemical labeled, 'Jedi-mind controlling juice' or 'Senator-hating sauce'.
He remembered that Herst mentioned the liquids that had been purchased was dark in color, so Jon grabbed the three vials he could see that matched that vague description.
He shut the cooling unit and turned back to the chemistry set, only now noticing that the burner was on, heating a liquid that bubbled softly. The liquid was as dark black as a deep pool of blood.
He gently nudged the side of the bottle, testing its heat. The bottle was cool enough to touch, so Jon pocketed it along with the others he had taken. Moving gingerly, Jon started towards the door, the vials clanking together noisily. They would no doubt shatter if he moved too quickly, so before he made it to the door, he doubled back to look for something he could carry them in more easily.
In the kitchen was nothing he could use, so he grabbed a ragged and moldy pillowcase from the couch in the living room. He drew the small knife he kept in his boot and cut a small hole along the seam, and yanked out just enough of the soft fiber to fit the vials in. He shoved the first vial in and moved it about, making sure they it was separated enough to not clang together with the second vial, the one that he had grabbed from the burner.
As he began forcing the third vial into the pillow, he heard a bang against the door.

Oh kriff, was the first thought that shot through Jon's mind. He looked up from his task, looking for a window, and finding that not only was it too small for him to climb through, but that it was also boarded up.
Oh, kriff, his mind repeated, as the door banged again, more loudly. He suspected the first bang had been the first attempt to open the door, and the second bang was someone's shoulder slamming into it more forcefully.
Jon looked around in a panic, then ducked behind the couch, one hand gripping the pillow, the other hand holding two vials of mysterious liquid.
Jon put the pillow down gently, then stood up and drew his blaster. From this position, he could see down the hallway to the door.
Lining up his target, he waited. The door banged again, then again. Each subsequent shove caused the door to shake more and more on its hinges.
Jon heard someone from outside make a frustrated noise.
Then, there was silence.
Jon waited for almost two full minutes, then slowly, lowered his blaster and started around the couch, taking a few slow steps towards the door.
The door exploded, flying off its hinges towards Jon, dust and debris clouding the air behind it.
A trio of blaster bolts sizzled through the now gaping doorway, two hitting the door as it tumbled over, the third burning past Jon's left ear close enough to momentarily deafen him.
He jumped backwards, landing on the edge of the couch, and with a shove of his foot, he launched himself over it, landing beside the pillow containing the mysterious liquids.
Relieved that he hadn't crushed the bottles when he landed, Jon spun around and aimed over the back of the couch, firing a pair of shots.
The dust had cleared slightly, and Jon could just see two large figures poking their heads around the doorway. One screamed out crazily, charging down the hall and firing wildly at Jon, who ducked down to avoid being blasted.
He swung back up to open fire, but the figure who had charged was right in front of him. The man had been throwing his punch as Jon lifted his head, and the blow slammed into Jon's jaw, knocking him backwards onto his ass.
Blaster skidding away, Jon felt his grip on the twin vials loosen but held them fast before they could roll away.
The man, who was bald and pudgy, was on top of Jon in seconds, hammering him with punches.
Desperate to get to his feet, Jon shoved his hand into the man's face, pushing him to the side. The man was still off-balance and toppled to the side, and Jon stood up as quickly as he could, kicking out sharply and catching the pudgy man in the jaw.
The second man was now striding towards Jon, a blaster pointing at his head, yelling something incoherent.
Jon reacted instinctively, hurling the vials at the man's head.
They struck and shattered before the man could move out of the way, and the twin liquids covered the man's face. He began to scream loudly, and between the fingers gripping his face, Jon could see the man's skin bubbling.
He nearly felt bad. But then the pudgy man on the floor grabbed Jon's blaster. Jon turned just as the man pointed Jon's blaster at him, and Jon leaned back, the shot going wide and missing him by inches. Jon kicked out as he leaned, catching him in the temple this time.
The merc dropped Jon's blaster, unconscious. Jon retrieved his blaster and rubbed his jaw, which had a small cut that was seeping blood.
He looked at the other man, whose face was still bubbling. The liquid that had dropped to the floor was slowly fizzling into the tiles, melting them.
The drenched man's cries faded, as he dropped to his knees, and by the time his cheek was touching the floor, he had gone silent.

Jon dragged the pudgy man to the couch and bodily tossed him onto it. The man crumpled, looking like he had fallen asleep midway through a boring docudrama.
When the man awoke, Jon would have some questions.
He leaned over the couch and picked up the pillow, grabbing the vials out of it and looking them over. No damage.
He sighed, wondering what they contained. Hopefully one of them was the same substance that had been sold to the Dark Jedi Herst had mentioned.

[Kael Serasai]

Following Rikter's hired thugs had been an easy task; perhaps, even, too easy, though he was willing to accept that now and then, the Force granted people like him 'lucky breaks'.
Figuring that he was already in trouble for breaking and entering, he helped himself to an open-topped speeder from the parking garage joined to the small complex, scoured the Force for the familliar presences of the two thugs he'd listened too minutes earlier, and set off in pursuit.

While the journey wasn't exactly harrowing, something caught his eye along the way, and he allowed himself a short pause to investigate.
One of the overhead holoboards was broadcasting a live news feed, providing an overhead shot of a burning building. Beneath the picture, was a headline which caused him to clench the steering yoke in near anger:

IAC HQ ABLAZE, ROGUE JEDI SUSPECTED

It wasn't the implication that angered him so much, but the fact that any information being stored in that building was now lost.
"Damn you, Rikter" he said through gritted teeth, keeping his head down as he set off to catch up with the thugs, police and fire speeders weaving in and out of the opposite lane.

*

Kael arrived late at the scene, largely in part to traffic queues and the need to keep a low profile. He doubted that Rikter had dispatched a facial scan to the authorities, for it would raise questions as to how he'd acquired it when the building was on fire. Unfortunately, once his description was made public, he'd be recognised by most of the people he'd interacted with since returning to Coruscant. Perhaps the Jedi Order would identify him first, which would give him more problems than just evading Coruscant security.
Whatever concerns the future held, they were put aside at the sound of blaster fire from inside the building of his destination, followed by an agonised scream.

Kael leapt out of the speeder, allowing it to continue coasting along, until it came to a gentle crash twenty meters away. Lightsaber hilt in hand, he sprinted into the building, thumbing the weapon's activation plate, and aimed the tip of the extending platinum blade at the face of... the wrong man.
"I take it you're not in need of saving then" Kael quipped, after taking a moment to absorb his surroundings; one thug on the floor, probably dead. The other on the couch, unconscious. The third man, probably Rohaeus, sitting in wait.

"This isn't what I was expecting" he frowned, lowering his blade and releasing the pressure plate, his blade disappearing into the hilt.

[Trenton Vinh]

Jon gave a casual grin at the newcomer, who, judging by his lightsaber, was a Jedi.
"Saving? No. This guy might need some saving if he doesn't answer some questions as soon as he wakes up." He shrugged, and asked, "You here for the same reason I am?"
He eyed the unconscious thug on the couch, prodding him with his boot. The man didn't respond much, he gave a guttural groan and his head lolled. Jon looked at the Jedi and introduced himself, "I'm Jonathan Rohaeus. I'm doing some private investigations for the Jedi. These two gentlemen were affiliated with 'the good' Senator Rikter, and also with whoever the hell assassinated Lance Henrikson."

Growing tired of waiting for the man to wake up, Jon kicked the thug hard in his shin. The thug yelped and jumped, jostling around on the couch like he had been startled by a loud noise. Then he clutched his shin and made a pained sound.
Jon rolled his eyes. In his left hand he held the vial of black liquid. He eyed it and looked at the Jedi, "Any idea what this is? If not...I'm sure our friend here will."

[Kael Serasai]

Kael slid his lightsaber back into its sheath, strapped to his spine, and took a seat. Leaning forward with his elbows propped on his knees, he listened to Jon explain why he was here, then smirked a little; of course the Jedi were involved. The only surprise was that they hadn't chosen to conduct the investigation themselves, to save face with the public.
"I'm here to find out why a perfectly good man suddenly put his lightsaber through the face of a certain Senator" he replied, taking the vial from Jon and holding it up to the dim light shining through the open doorway. "The Jedi have no idea of my involvement, and I'd like to keep it that way for the time being. As for the good Senator Rikter..." he muttered, uncorking the vial and taking a cautious sniff of the contents.

"I've no idea what this is" he conceded, re-corking the vial and handing it carefully back to Jon. He ignored the thugs dramatic awakening, casting a glance back to the doorway, as if expecting police or Coruscant security to come bursting in and arrest him. "Senator Rikter caught me snooping around his offices, after I heard him ordering these two to come and kill you. Whatever his involvement, we know he's definately suspect in this case, but any evidence likely went up in flames along with the rest of his office" he sighed.

With that, he sat back on the chair into a more comfortable position, and waited for the conscious thug to start speaking. If he refused to cooperate... well, there were no Jedi around to lecture him for applying a little pressure of his own...

[Trenton Vinh]

Jon shrugged, "Well, I'll be sure to keep your name out of the reports. It won't be a problem at all seeing as I don't know your name. And I know a few Jedi...I have the feeling you're on their bad side?"

His frustration grew when he was told about Rikter's office. That would not help things at all.
"That hutt-slime. Torching his own office, that's a new one. There's something up with that guy...I swear he's a mind-reader or something. When he looked at me...I felt like he knew everything I was thinking. Like he saw not just me...but into me. Through me."

He tapped the thug on the forehead, "Hey scumball. Want to fill us in on the contents of this vial here?"

Jon turned away from the silent man and cursed darkly, then he withdrew his comlink.
He dialed in the number of a contact he had at a nearby lab, "Hey, Renn. Its me, Jon. Yes, I have your fifty credits -- I know I know we had a bet on the gravball game. I'll throw you an extra fifty creds if you take a few samples of something for me. It'll help me with an investigation of mine. Half an hour? You got it, bud, I'll be there."
He turned back to the thug and asked, "Alright we'll, since you won't tell us about this liquid, we'llfind out another way. What you are going to tell us, is everything about Rikter, and everything about the Dark Jedi you met with in a cantina not too long ago. And trying to act all tight-lipped won't help you this time, cause I'm through playing around."
He drew his blaster and pointed it at the merc's head, a gleam in his eye and a dark grin on his face.

[Kael Serasai]

The notion that Rikter may be a mind-reader wasn't lost on Kael, though for now he suspected it was more a combination of intellect, wit, and insight rather than plain mind-reading. If not, then it might be implied that Rikter possessed some kind of Force sensitivity, which would bear even further investigation, possibly more than a wayward Jedi and a P.I were able to handle alone.

While Jon spoke with his contact, presumably some sort of scientist, Kael tried to penetrate the silent thugs' mind, in the hopes of reading his thoughts. It had never been his strongest ability - he was more adept at reading intentions, gauging Force sensitivity and the like - but regardless of his own abilities, something snapped inside himself when Jon mentioned Dark Jedi.

"Dark Jedi?" he snapped, glancing first at Jon, then at the thug, his eyes narrowing to slits. He hoisted the thug from the couch with barely more than a thought, slammed him up against the ceiling, then back down to the floor. Pinning him there with his foot, he drew his lightsaber, the blade hissing to life and drilling into the floor beside the mans face.
"You better start answering Mr Rohaeus's questions" he advised, his tone shaky with restrained anger. "Starting with this Dark Jedi".

[Trenton Vinh]

Jon stepped back as the Jedi began his 'interrogation'. A grin crossed his face, one similar to the look he would give his opponent's when he held a good hand in Sabacc - the look of a confident victor.
He said, "That's what I'm talking about."

The thug let out a yelp typical of a coward, and immediately cried out, "He called himself Vasef! He flies a Punworcca! I don't know much else, except that he paid well!" The man cowered, trying to inch away from the lightsaber that was burning through the floor next to him.

Jon raised an eyebrow. Punworcca's were solar-sailing ships. He said quietly, "Perhaps he uses it because it leaves no trace behind? But if he has it docked we can find it easily enough."


*****

Chief of State Maarko Dorton eyed his Admiral of the Fleet, the highest ranking Military adviser in the Navy. The role was not one of organization and leadership, but a role of political maneuvering in order to get more credits for Military funding, as well as to act as a go-between for Military and Political leaders.
The current Admiral of the Fleet was Vrikk Morfan, a pale-furred Bothan with eyes as blue as Mon Calamari's oceans.
A brilliant tactician, and a wonderful public speaker, Morfan had come to meet with Maarko to discuss a rather strange idea the Chief of State had.

Everyone in the Galactic Alliance knew that Maarko was on his way out of office, and would no doubt be replaced by a more Senate-pleasing one soon. Maarko's term had been one of many changes, and seeing as the Chief of State had a good relationship with the Galactic Alliance Senate's latest target of criticism, he was not doing well in the polls. The Jedi were on their way out, many believed, and the Senate didn't want their ruler to be a sympathizer.
"So, Chief, you think a network of spies will be the new defenders of our Galaxy, and of our Government?"
Maarko sighed as he repeated himself again,
"No Morfan, they will not be spies. They will be elite operatives, outside the rankings of the Navy and Militaries, granted powers by the Chief of State to do what they must in order to deal with the conflicts that arise."

"So, you wish to appease the Senate by replacing the Jedi with average citizens, albeit very talented ones, who will be the new defenders of our Galaxy and Government?" Morfan paraphrased.
Maarko nodded,
"Sort of...you're simplifying it too much. They aren't merely Jedi without the Force powers. That's what the Senate despises, they see the Jedi as mystic magicians, they don't realize how powerful they really are."

Morfan nodded, "The Senate certainly does underestimate the power of the Jedi Order. But you think that these 'elite operatives' will be capable of doing as effective a job as the Jedi? Do you think they will be able to accomplish half of what a Jedi could?"
The Chief of State stood up from his seat, turning to fix a drink of caf for him and the Bothan. He wouldn't be holding Office much longer, and perhaps this was a last ditch attempt to...to what? To create a legacy he could be remembered by?
He shrugged and replied,
"These operatives will be the best that any being can be. Like anyone, they will be flawed, but they will also be legitimate in the eyes of the Senate. When a citizen has proven themselves worthy of the role, they may choose to accept it, for the greater good."

Morfan shrugged, "What about Jedi? There are plenty of Jedi that fit this role perfectly."

"If the Senate would have them. Perhaps a few special Jedi could be accepted into their ranks." the Chief of state responded.

They sat in the Chief's private Office, a quiet room that sat beneath the Senate Grand Convocation Chamber. To the right of the desk the pair faced each other across was the podium that would rise into the center of the huge chamber, surrounded by the scores of representatives and delegates from a thousand worlds. Within minutes, the Chief of State would ride the podium through the ceiling into the midst of the Political battlefield, where he was going to propose his idea for the new defenders of their Galaxy, a network of
elites that would be called the ShadowNet. These soldiers would be tasked with dangerous and difficult assignments, oftentimes working alongside the Navy and Military in order to achieve their objectives. Each one of these operatives would be referred to as a Vindicator. They would answer to the Chief of State himself, but not as personal assassins or guards.

"You had better not allow these Vindicators to become personal assistants to the Chief of State." Morfan said sharply.
Maarko shook his head vigorously,
"They will receive their assignments from the head of Government, but only because there is no one better able to decide what to do with them. They will also reserve the right to refuse any assignment offered to them. If they feel it serves my own personal gain, they will, of course, not accept it. They serve the Galactic Alliance, and I'm just the head of it...for now." He finished the sentence with a pained look in his eyes.
He knew that he was on his way out. This idea would possibly give him a bit more time to aid the Galaxy he spent his life serving, or it would lead to his ousting sooner than anything else.

Morfan nodded slowly, "Very well. I support your idea. But these Vindicators...will they be outside of the law? Will they be held accountable for their actions?"
Maarko opened his mouth to speak, then said, "That will be for the Senate to decide, I suppose."
Morfan had more questions, which were not only to help him better understand this proposition, but also to be the Devil's advocate, to ensure the Chief of State had everything set straight. The Senate would eat him
alive if he wasn't fully prepared.

"Galactic stability is what they will fight for. Individuals forged in the fire of service and battle, whose actions elevate them above rank and file." the Chief of state said in a bold voice, imitating what he would say when speaking to the Senate.
Morfan clapped once, "Good choice of words. I think this will work, Chief."
Maarko nodded, with a smile, "Thank you, I hope it does. We need someone to defend us, someone to carry the burden of the Galaxy on their shoulders. Someone unafraid to sacrifice all they must to keep our Galaxy peaceful."

Morfan stood up to leave; it was time for the Chief to address the Senate. He could just barely hear the roaring thunder of thousands of voices from thousands of creatures representing millions of worlds coming from above.
"Uhm...Chief, one final question."
The Chief of State sipped his glass of caf, and raised his eyebrows expectantly.
"Do you have any potential Vindicators in mind?" Morfan asked.
Maarko nodded slowly, "There are a few candidates I have researched. You will know some of them already. I will look over any candidates you may have in mind. But lets see if this vote passes before going further with the idea. If I'm not thrown out of Office for this..."
He offered a self-deprecating smile, one that was returned by the Military Adviser, "Lets hope that doesn't happen, Chief."
Maarko had taken his place on his podium, took a moment to check his appearance, and bowed his head to Morfan.
"To the Galactic Alliance, my friend." The Chief of State said, and Morfan raised his glass of caf, before downing the warm liquid.
"I'll be watching from the Grand Concourse." the Bothan announced, turning to leave.
The Chief tapped a button on his keypad, and swiftly ascended into the middle of the Grand Chambers, where decisions were made that would alter the course of the entire Galaxy.

[Kael Serasai]

He switched off his lightsaber at the mans pleading; he wasn't above using violence, or the threat of violence, as a means of interrogation, but he wouldn't harm the thug out of spite. Some part of him was still Jedi, even if he'd left the lifestyle and the title behind. He was convinced the thug was telling them all he knew, and so was content to wipe the thugs mind of ever speaking to them about this.

Kael was also convinced that this solar sailer would be easy enough to find, owing largely to how uncommon they were. To Kael's knowledge, they weren't exactly expensive as far as starships went, but their disadvantages left much to be desired.
However, as Jon had pointed out, they also left behind no trace of their presence, at least not in terms of excess fuels or ion signatures.
"There are hundreds of docks in this sector alone" he thought to point out. "Do you have access to any sort of directory?".

Somehow, he assumed the detective would have access to exactly that.

******

The halls of the Senate building were no less buzzing with activity than usual, but for Senator Lohden, the taste of anticipation was sharp in the air.
The usual HNN reporters, tailgated by their cam droids, bustled back and forth. Screens showed various Senators telling their views on various events concerning various worlds, and Senator Lohden breezed past them all. All, but for one vidscreen, which was replaying the mornings broadcast on the destruction of the IAC building.
"An unfortunate turn of events" a voice rang in her ear, as she lingered too long to digest the story. She turned, chin held up firmly, to regard Senator Rikter.

"Unfortunate?" Senator Lohden asked, keeping her expression blank. She didn't much like Griegorey Rikter, but didn't yet have the full measure of the man. Whether he would become a political ally or enemy, or even neither, she didn't yet know. And yet, somehow, she always seemed to be wherever the Senator wanted to be.
"Well, the loss of headquarters will have severe setbacks to the IAC" Rikter offered, as though explaining to a child.
"And here I thought the word 'unfortunate' didn't enter into the vocabulary of Senator Rikter. Fortune, yes, but that has a much sweeter ring to it" Lohden replied, her smile all but dripping venom.

"Ah, Taja..." Rikter smiled back, clasping his hands at the base of his spine. "I do hope to spar with you on the subject before the masses. My day could use the enlightenment of your undisciplined tongue and the uproar it causes".
"The pleasure would be mine, Griegorey, but today we're here to listen to the Chief of State postulate and procrastinate" she sighed. "I fear we may even see eye to eye on this one. Rumour has it" she said, in a conspiratorial stage-whisper, "that Dorton is brewing something big. Perhaps something to save a little face with the Senate".
"Or another reason to stay the hand of judgement ready to fall upon our stagnant Jedi protectors" Rikter replied boredly. "Either way, this promises to be an enlightening afternoon. Shall we?" He gestured to the entrance to the great Senate rotunda, where last-minute arrivals were hurrying to their pods to await the imminent Chief of State.
Taja snapped her fingers at the two armoured guards lurking behind Griegorey, and both stepped forward to escort her inside.
"I look forward to hearing your analysis of the Chief's position following this performance" she said sultrily over her shoulder.

[Trenton Vinh]

Jon smiled and nodded his head vigorously, "Of course I do. I can probably access them via a console at my buddy Renn's lab. He's not the most stand-up guy, but he can give us a leg-up." Jon chuckled at his own joke; Renn had only one leg.
He said simply, "If you don't have a speeder, we can take mine, if you do have one of your own, follow me."
He gave the thug on the floor a final look, and began to leave. He stopped at the doorway, hearing some sirens in the distance.
Someone in the scum-ball apartments had enough of a conscience to call the CSF.
"Sounds like perfect timing, too."
He turned and looked over the apartment. He wondered if there was any signs that would lead the CSF back to Rikter. If there had been anything Jon himself had missed, the Coruscant Security Force would find it.
Jon couldn't help but smile at the thought of Rikter in a jail cell...or on a prison planet. Or in carbonite.


*****

Vrikk Morfan paced in his Office, eagerly awaiting the arrival of Commander Lysander Lee, one of Morfan's best. The Commander was famous in the Holonets for his heroics during the Yuuzhan Vong war, involving his single-handed destruction of an enemy Vong worldship by sacrificing his own battle-cruiser. The desperate move had been the last chance to defend Mon Calamari from the alien invaders, and it had paid off. After floating in the cold of vacuum for six hours in an EV suit, Lysander received a medal for his heroics, and a promotion.
Years later, the Mon Calamari shipwrights had constructed a replacement cruiser for the one Lee had sacrificed, and given it to Lysander as a gift. Not to the Galactic Alliance Navy, but to Lysander personally. Of course, Lysander offered to command the ship (and its fleet) as if it was part of the G.A. Naval forces, but no one forgot who truly owned the beautiful cruiser, named the Peaceful Infinity.
This gave Lysander a certain amount of freedom over some other Officers, and some extra say in the Military. But Lysander was a good man, and did not abuse his position.

Lysander was on Coruscant to discuss some fleet movements with Morfan, but the Bothan suspected Lysander had more on his mind than where a few ships ought to go. This was what had Vrikk worried; if Lysander had a request, it would be hard to deny the man. After all, he was a hero...and a hero who had control over an entire fleet, whether or not the man used that as leverage.

The fleet was, in fact, orbiting Coruscant now. Morfan craned his neck to look skywards from his Office Window. In the fading light of Coruscant Prime, the Bothan could just barely see the Peaceful Infinity and its companion Star Destroyer, The Protectorate.
The Rapid Response Task Force Fleet was one of the most prestigious fleets in the Navy. Commanded by Lee, of course, was a complement of two Acclamator-Class assault ships, a Star Destroyer, a trio of Corellian Corvettes, a Nebulon-B Frigate, a total of a dozen Starfighter Squadrons, and the MC80-Mon Calamarian Battlecruiser that was The Peaceful Infinity
The Bothan turned away from the sight of the orbiting cruiser, just in time for his office doors to open and for Commander Lysander Lee to enter the room. He appeared tired, or perhaps he always looked that way.
The man was slightly above average height for a human, with short dark hair and two-day stubble. He saluted upon entry, and Morfan saluted in return, then both men took their seats.
Lysander spoke first, "Is the Chief of State announcing his resignation or something? I haven't seen the Senate in such a fuss since the end of the last war."
Morfan smiled, showing some of his teeth, "You must have been busy, Commander. Today, the Chief of State is addressing the Senate on the matter of the Jedi, and on the future defenders of our Galaxy."
Lee was a smart man, a brilliant tactician -- and not one that harbored a grudge against the Jedi. He responded,
"If he ousts the Jedi, he will only be showing his weakness. The Senate is looking for him to stick out his neck, if he bends to their will and stops the Jedi from protecting us when they can, it will only prove that he cares more for his position than for Galactic stability."
Morfan shrugged, straightening his whiskers with one hand, "Perhaps that is so. But do not count him out, Commander, The Chief has a few ideas of his own. Some that I think you may approve of."
"Oh?" Lee replied simply.
Morfan smiled, knowing that Lee wished for Morfan to elaborate, but he wouldn't...not yet.
"Stick around for the address and you will understand what I mean, Commander. I think we are going to have a rather interesting evening ahead of us."
Lee only nodded silently, and Morfan got down to business,
"So, Commander, if you aren't here just to enjoy the political battlefield, what can I do for you?"
Lysander was not a man who particularly enjoyed politics; he was a man of action, who believed the Senate would rather debate over how to go about a problem until it solved itself, then try to take credit for themselves.
He was also not a man to mince words more than necessary, so he stated simply, "The Outer Rim is in danger, Vrikk."
He used the Bothan's first name because he wanted to get past the political talk, and receive the attention of his friend, not the facade that Morfan put up while in the Rotunda.
Morfan seemed to understand that Lee was not playing around, and the smile on his face disappeared, "You are referring to the systems we lost contact with, I assume?"
Lee nodded, and added, "And I know that you have ample evidence, including a message from the Mandalorians, that there is an impending invasion."
Morfan forced himself not to break out into a sweat, and replied, "Well, it is not that black and white, my friend..."
"Save it, Morfan." Lee cut in.
Morfan redirected his sentence, "But there is not much I can do. I spoke to the Chief of State about the matter and he doesn't seem to think it is enough. Perhaps after the Senate's vote today I can arrange a meeting with-"
Lysander Lee stood up, and said, "Damn right, you'll arrange a meeting with the Chief of State. I'm not here to ask permission to go investigate with my fleet. I'm here to inform you that the RRTF (Rapid Response Task Force) is going to be Hyping out in the morning. So you can tell the Naval Board and the General's where their ships have gone."
Morfan knew it. When Lysander said their ships, he really meant, the ships that complement my cruiser.
Perhaps he hadn't said it that way, but that's what Lysander was saying.
Morfan lowered his head and stared at the desk between them, and responded, "Understood, Commander. But the General's will not approve of you using your ship as leverage." He looked back up at Lee, who was still standing, "Now I know you are a good man, and a great leader, but if you are wrong, you'll be in some deep water. Military budgeting isn't at its best these days. You'll be wasting thousands of credits in supplies and pay if you take your fleet on a wild bantha chase."
Lysander smirked, "You're only fooling yourself, if you think its a wild bantha chase, Morfan."
Morfan stood up as well. Their meeting was over, and the voices of thousands of Senators in the Grand Convocation Chamber was a sign that the official address was about to begin.
"If there is indeed war on the horizon, my friend," Morfan admitted gravely, "Let us hope that it can be prevented."

[Kael Serasai]

Kael had opted to leave behind the speeder he'd stolen from Rikter's office parking lot, and instead rode with Jon to see their contact, who turned out to be a one-legged man with numerous resources in reach.
Along the way, he introduced himself properly to Jon, though he still didn't give reasons for not wanting the Jedi to know of his current involvement in the investigation. It wasn't important, and Jon didn't seem to want to press the matter anyway.

While Jon scoured the docking registries for their tell-tale ship, Kael paced the lab, occasionally passing test-tubes and filters to Renn while keeping an eye on the HNN feed. Little more had been said on the issue of the IAC headquarters, other than the firefighting teams had finally managed to douse the blaze, but little was left to salvage. Whatever reasons Rikter had fabricated for believing rogue Jedi to be responsible, he'd managed to do so without implicating Kael, it would seem. It was a puzzle which would probably nag at Kael for some time, but until they had anything solid on Rikter, there were more pressing concerns to be worrying about.

"Got it, I think" Jon called from the front room, and Kael turned away from the holoscreen in the lab and went to investigate.
"Docking Bay 113, Section 8, Southside Landings" Kael read from Jon's terminal. "Checked the bay listings?" he thought to ask.
"Yeah, look at this" Jon said, smirking knowingly. He hit a button on the terminal, and the display shifted to a list of recent dockings in Bay 113, Section 8, over the last year. Each listing was for the same ship, a Punworrca Solar Sailer with undeclared cargo and registration details withheld from public viewing.
"Same guy, regular visits... private docking bay?" Kael wondered out loud.
"Lets find out" Jon said, switching off the terminal. "As soon as you finish your tests..." he began calling back to Renn.
"I'll be in touch. Just be ready to transfer those creds when I do" Renn finished for him.

*

The trip wasn't a long one; Southside Landings was only an hour's ride from Renn's place, though both men knew a shortcut or two. Even after detouring to one of Kael's safehouses, so he could change into something less Jedi-ish, they arrived in less time than it took to actually locate their quarry in the public directories.
"If this is a privately owned docking bay, its likely the owner's gonna be notified if two people come investigating" Kael said. "We need to get a story straight, so we don't raise any sort of alarm". It might seem like paranoia, but in his experience, most Dark Jedi didn't leave a stone unturned in regards to safeguarding their endeavours.

Just thinking of Dark Jedi involvement in all of this made Kael's skin crawl, and he instinctively checked his lightsaber was still sheathed against his forearm. False stitching in the loose-sleeved black jacket he'd adopted allowed him to hide the slender device from view in these situations, and the blaster he wore holstered in full view usually diverted attention away from any hidden assets he may possess. Coupled with the grey slacks he wore tucked into black boots, he appeared to be a typical spacer of nondescript sorts. A smuggler perhaps, or an enthusiast trying to blend in. Whatever he may appear, it wasn't Jedi.
And if their Dark Jedi target happened to be home when they came calling, then so much the better for his disguise. He'd had his fair share of dealings with them over the last couple of years, and he bore his scars. Some physical - like the cross-shaped scar on his left jawline, the lightsaber burn on his abdomen - and some not so physical, like the loss of his Master, his ship, his way of life...

[Trenton Vinh]

Sure enough, there were a pair of burly-looking security guards flanking the doors as Jon and Kael arrived at their destination. Jon boldly strode up to one and said, "Open the doors, please. I'm with the local security forces."
The guard smirked at Jon and said, "Oh, yeah? Let's see a badge, slimebag."

Jon ignored the insult; the only person whose hygiene was in question here was the other security guard, who had bad teeth and greasy hair. Jon pulled out his ID badge, along with a fifty-cred chip, then feigned dropping the credits.
"Oops." He said, looking incredibly surprised to see that many credits laying on the floor.
Apparently, so was the disgusting security guard, because he moved to grab the creds from the floor.
Before his grubby hands could grip the credit stick, Jon took a step forward and kicked as hard as he could at the man's descending face. Boot connected with temple, and the first security guard dropped soundlessly.
Kael's blaster was pointed at the smarter (and still conscious) of the two guards before the man could move.
"You should probably get your friend to a doctor, after such a nasty fall like that. You couldn't be punished for leaving your post to help get him some medical aid." Kael said, the Force adding influence to his words.
Jon smiled broadly, "I hear head wounds can cause some memory problems. He probably won't remember us ever having passed through here. Perhaps you'll have better luck picking up those credits if you forget, as well."
The security guard looked livid, but he was clearly not an idiot, because he pocketed the credits and began dragging his friend away.
Jon shrugged as the man rounded a corner, and said, "Pleasant fellow. Hope his friend's concussion isn't too bad."
Kael ignored the remark and opened the doors to the private docking bay.
He looked up at the solar sailer, sitting exactly where it should be.
Jon rushed forwards and strode up the ramp, probably recklessly due to the fact that both men had no idea if they were alone.
Jon's luck seemed to be paying off, however, because the interior of the ship was deserted.
He dropped into the chair in front of the Nav console and was typing in commands as Kael strode into the cockpit behind him.
"We shouldn't stay long." Kael said, looking at the time on his chronometer.
Jon nodded silently, scouring the databanks for some clues.
"Hmph." Jon said absently, and Kael raised his eyebrows in curiosity,
"What is it?" he asked.
Jon answered slowly, "This guy must clear out his nav cache often...he only has a few Hyperspace coordinates stored. But he couldn't possibly live near Kessel...there's nothing there but rocks and black holes. And the only coordinates other than that are these..." He brought up a navigation chart, which showed how to bypass the black hole clusters in The Maw nebulae.
"Other than those, he has a space station listed as well...possibly a resupply and refueling depot. Near Norulac and Tanaab. Norulac is known for being a pirates paradise, if there's a station nearby it, I doubt it would be a very inviting one."
His comm beeped, and Jon jumped slightly. He checked the message and said, "Looks like Renn has some test results for us. Let's hit up a bank terminal on the way back...I owe him some money for this."