A Request for Help

[tenkalus]

Coruscant. The planet city. It was always daytime in the capitol, even at night, given the perpetual glow from the hundreds of thousands of skyscrapers dotting the surface of the planet. The constant flow of speeders from all directions and of all shapes and sizes was a constant reminder of how far galactic policy had come. Consistent war in the galaxy had done little to deter the Republic from functioning in everyday life as even now, the skylanes were filled with a multitude of various sentient races from all over the great black void of space.

It was something that gave Winter Lockhaert hope.

The Sith had been unable to spread their overly xenophobic way of life to the more civilized reaches of the galaxy. Goodness and justice had prevailed, or at the very least, kept the citizens of Republic space free from dominion. People still had a place here.

A small smile spread unconsciously across his face, as he looked out the window to his immediate right. Winter had been back on Coruscant resting from his last mission for only a day now. But it had taken just that long for the Jedi Council to request his presence for another assignment. And so here he was, leaning against the wall and looking out the window, waiting to be summoned into the council chambers to be briefed.

He’d always enjoyed the view from the high spires of the Jedi Temple. A man could see for miles and miles during the day, and it was the hustle and bustle of life that made him smile warmly. He also enjoyed watching the comings and goings of everyday citizens, from those walking on the ped-ways, to the speeder pilots maneuvering the sky lanes. There was a little game Winter would play with himself in times like these. He’d quickly scan his field of view and make snap assessments of what he saw. It was important for an investigator to keep their mind’s honed and focused after all, and part of that was being able to recognize minute details quickly.

It was about recognizing patterns and behavior. For instance, traffic had a certain ebb and flow to it. So when an individual speeder started to act aggressively and tried to break his lane after riding the bumper of the vehicle in front of them, Winter picked up on it immediately, and then was unsurprised when a law enforcement vehicle four spots back added an additional flash of color to the sky as they lit up their sirens and pulled the aggressive driver to the side for reprimand.

“Spatial awareness, friend.” Winter muttered with a chuckle.

“Um, Master Lockhaert?” A small voice said from behind him.

Winter turned curiously to regard the three foot, be-robed human child before him. While not an actual master in rank, Winter knew that it was a customary greeting or title given and used by initiates and padawan learners. The young child must have been all of 5 or 6 years old, and was likely running administrative duties for ranking members of the Order.

As was now commonplace for all who interacted with Winter, the Jedi Knight made sure to meet the eyes of those he addressed. He crouched down and offered a charming smile to the child standing before him. “Well hello there young friend. What can I do for you?” He asked casually.

He was nothing if not cordial to all he met, and was especially fond of younglings in general. He remembered well what it was like, growing up in the Temple and not knowing who your family was. The Jedi had a way of indoctrinating their members to the thought that the Order was their family. Winter simply embraced that knowledge and did his very best to make any young person feel at home in his presence.

“The Council is ready for you now, Master.” The youngling said with uncertainty. He’d never met Winter before and so was unsure of how much ceremony was needed. He was right to be cautious, Winter reflected, as there were so many different personalities in the Order that occasionally, common courtesy could be overlooked to a learner.

“Well thank you young sir! I’ll be along promptly. But first, a reward for your fine service.”

Winter reached into his own robes and pulled out a single, tightly wrapped candy. “A good Jedi knows the importance of awareness,” he instructed easily, noting the youngling’s eyes go a bit wider in excitement. “ It’s all about having a good nose. You need to be able to sniff out deception. So, this candy is yours IF, you can tell me what hand it is in when I hide it. Okay?”

The young man nodded emphatically, suddenly sprouting a smile.

“Yeah? Okay, here we go.” Winter said as he put his hands behind his back and shifted the candy back and forth between them. When he was satisfied, he held out both fists to the child and raised an eyebrow. “Smmmmmell the deceptionnnnnn young Jedi. Choose your senses wisely. Ussseeeee the Forrrceeeee. Let the candy, flow through youuuuu.” He chanted mystically at the boy.

His young protege considered carefully, his eyes flicking back and forth from fist to fist. Eventually, he pointed to Winter’s right hand. When asked if he was sure, the boy nodded again. But he was disappointed when the hand came up empty.

“Deception is hard to smell sometimes young friend.” Winter said soberly, then opened the opposite hand to show the boy that it to, was empty. “But I understand. It must be hard to smell deception with this thing blocking your NOSE….”

He quickly reached out to flick the boys nose, and with a quick application of speed and a little sleight of hand, Winter made the candy reappear from the hem of his sleeve where he’d kept it, and held it tightly between his fingers with a smile. The boy giggled madly and snatched the candy from Winter’s grasp.

“Good reflexes. A Jedi needs good reflexes too!” He said with a wink as he stood and walked over to the Council Chambers entrance.


*******************************************************************************


An hour later, Winter was out of his robes and into his civilian attire. Were it not for the lightsaber hooked securely to his belt and in plain view, he could have been mistaken for any other commonly dressed citizen in his waist length brown leather jacket and loose utility trousers.

He strode gently through the throng of civilians gathered around the cordon and confidently made his way under the police barrier, swiftly presenting his credentials as a Jedi Investigator to the officer who swooped down upon him to bar his way.

Coruscant might have been a haven of life and democracy, but it was here amidst the quiet chaos that Winter felt most alive and at peace. Standing at the center of a crime scene, viewing a tapestry of violence and destruction, and being forced to use his instincts and intuition to piece together the scene to find out what had happened and track down the ones responsible. This, was his purpose.

The council had briefed him on what they knew, which was dreadfully little. There had been a dead body found in the senate district close to the local turbolift. While horrible in nature, as was all loss of life, Winter had been initially baffled as to why he’d been called in for the investigation. Surely something as mundane as murder could be left to local authorities. And if there was one thing that Winter hated doing, it was imposing Jedi authority over situations that could, and in fact should, be handled by local law enforcement.

But in this case, Coruscant security had requested Jedi assistance.

Apparently there had been a substance found by the body that the forensics team had identified as a shard of a Jedi Holocron.

Now that detail, warranted investigation.

The officer in charge of the crime scene looked up from his conversation and eyeballed Winter, as the younger man began sweeping his eyes over every detail he could find. “Oi! Who the hell are you?”

Winter didn’t look up. His eyes slowly processed every nook and cranny of the scene. The victim was a middle-aged male Zabrak, approximately 6 feet tall and maybe 190 pounds soaking wet. He had what appeared to be a blaster wound to the upper torso and was now face down in a cooling pool of his own blood.

“Winter Lockhaert.” he replied distantly as his head shifted to take in the buildings around them, “Jedi Knight.”

“Yeah? Well Knight Luckhurt, I’m Senior Detective Meeran Joble and you’re squatting in my crimescene. So kindly bugger off, and don’t touch anything on the way out.”

Winter broke his gaze from his searching and looked up, blinking slowly in question. “Senior Detective, I was under the impression that Jedi assistance was requested here. I was sent here by the council.”

“I don’t rightly care if the frakkin Supreme Chancellor sent you with a letter of recommendation, this is an active crime scene and I don’t need some wet-behind-the-ears finger wiggler contaminating my evidence. The only reason you’re here is because a junior officer found a weird bit of glass and mistook it for something it wasn’t, then reported it over my head before I got here. So of course powers that be wanted to make nice and thought it would be smart to get your mystic asses involved in work perfectly suited for us “lower beings”. So I’m here to tell you. You don’t have jurisdiction here and your presence will be tolerated only so long as you stay the hell out of the way of my men. Savvy?”

Winter stood and walked over calmly. “Detective Joble, I’m not here to step on your toes sir. I have the utmost respect for the job you and your men do, and so you know, at no point in any part of the many years of personal training I had at the Temple, have I once heard non-Force users referred to as lower beings. A tragedy has occurred here my friend, and it is up to us to find out who, and how, and why. Now were this a clear cut murder, you would be correct in that I have no jurisdiction. Unfortunately this is not the case.”

Meeran glared up at Winter, who stood 2 inches taller at full height. “And what exactly about this doesn’t seem clear cut to you?”

Winter gestured back to the body with one hand. “This man wasn’t killed with a blaster.”

The detective cocked an eyebrow at Winter and folded his arms over his chest. “Come again?”

Winter raised a finger and gestured back over to the body. “The victim was positioned to cover an escape, cause us to waste time on the mundane aspects of the scene which would buy the killer time to cover their tracks. There is more information present that could be overlooked. If you would, shine a light down into the wound.”

Meeran stared pointedly at Winter, who just smiled kindly back and gestured to the body again. “If I’m wrong, you can kick me out. Indulge me.”

So the detective sighed and pulled a pen-light from his breast pocket and looked down into the entry wound.

“What am I looking for here, Jedi?”

“When is the last time you saw a blaster wound bleed this badly, Senior Detective? By nature, a blaster bolt is energy. It burns flesh and typically cauterizes a wound, much like a lightsaber would. But look here, and here.” Winter said, moving casually around the corpse, careful not to step in blood. “The spray is all wrong. Blaster shots are clean, and yes sometimes they do bleed, but not this much and they certainly don’t leave an explosive blood splatter.”

The detective flicked his light around from point to point, taking in the information slowly. “Okay so then what killed him?”

Winter shook his head and stuffed his hands into his jacket pockets, “I’m not entirely sure yet. But if I had to make an educated guess, it was some kind of small explosive device that was embedded in his body. Maybe the size of a fingernail, crystalline in structure.”

“Based off of what evidence?” Meeran shot back, eying the Jedi with renewed interest. His voice was more inquisitive now instead of accusing.

“Well you’ll notice that the wound here carries with it all the hallmarks of a close ranged blaster shot. Singed edges around the flesh, energy discharge burn on the clothing at the point of impact, probably point blank if I had to venture a guess. But what doesn’t add up are the additional crystal shards still in the body. Shine your light back in there and you can catch a glint of them at an angle. I think that this man was murdered with a foreign device, and then had a blaster put to his back and a new hole burned into him to conceal evidence. Fortunately for us, the killer didn’t do a thorough job, or was likely interrupted before he could get all of the crystal shards out. I’ll bet you ten creds that there’s a scorch mark on the ground under the body when you move it and clean up the blood.”

Meeran stared at the Jedi for a while, then re-examined the evidence for a long minute before standing.

“Lockhaert, you said your name was?”

Winter nodded to him.

“Alright Jedi, you can stay. But you run anything you find through me before acting, clear?”

“Absolutely sir. I’m here to help, not take over. I thank you earnestly for your understanding. I’m sure we will solve this case expeditiously as long as we work together.” He offered a hand and the Senior Detective snorted, but gripped it firmly all the same. “I’d like to begin by questioning any witnesses we might have.”

[Muffinzky]

“Thank you Mauriceee!”
A bell was ringing as the door closed behind the Padawan, and Rahebi waved eagerly to the owner of the bakery with a smile that barely could become any wider from glee. She was a regular customer and a well-known face there. For if there was anyone that made the best bread in all of Coruscant, it was the old Bothan, and Rahebi would personally walk around the whole planet to get to it if she had to.

When she left the shop she stopped for a moment and looked down the forked street. She knew her way home, she knew where the temple was. But she didn’t take it. She chose the opposite way.
The pulsating rhythm of the city was always something that entranced her. The many different smells merged and created a symphony for the senses that to her was special. Some of pollution, some of food. Some of perfume when a rich person passed by. But her favourite was the one that was right after the rain stopped falling – Like this day.

And then there was her little thing. One of the many she enjoyed: Her game of how many faces she could recognise when she passed by a familiar street. If not for their physical appearance, she could recognise the feeling they gave her by the Force. Their emotions. The way they spoke. The way they walked.
The young Zelosian had never told anyone of the habit, but when she found someone she had observed new and interesting, she would cut little wooden figurines of them, paint them, make up a name for them and put them in her drawer at her room. That way it was easier for her to remember their stories and imagine the lives they lived. Like until Maurice was revealed to be a Maurice - to her he had been known as “Scruffy”. Because he looked like a dog.
And smelled like beef stew.

Throughout the city, small puddles of water reflected colours from the light pollution and nearby shop windows and cafes. The humming sounds of traffic above her head made the bright emerald green eyes look up for a moment, breathing in the impressions, and some of the great lights from above illuminated her freckled face. The city was one big bundle of emotional static to Rahebi. That confused her, but her curiosity always got to the better of her. An unknown force teased her, called her and made her legs move forward. It made the steps she took melt into one another and soon she had forgotten about her surroundings. And about time.

As Rahebi walked, she swung the bag of sturdy fabric back and forth. The buns, bread and flowers in it rustled around. Most of the things in the bag was freebies and gifts she had received for spending some hours of her day helping people like Maurice out. Or running errands for them. She wasn’t supposed to. Padawans didn’t do business like that. But then again… Padawans weren’t allowed to do anything at all, so Rahebi had only shrugged and engaged in the activity. It was cosy helping a friend. She liked baking and free food was best food.

It almost looked like a little dance by the way she jumped in between people and the different entrances. Her Jedi garments was at home. She was wearing shorts that balanced daringly between showing too much skin and hiding exactly enough to keep it interesting, hugging tightly to her shape. The oversized t-shirt was stuffed into the edge of her shorts on the left side and otherwise hung freely.
She had been asked to wear shoes by a Master at the temple.
…Shoes.
Rahebi hated shoes. But since he insisted, she had given in. AND. Since he didn’t specify which shoes she should wear, she had bought a couple of heels and let the exiled abominations of fugly Jedi boots lay in the dusty corner of her room. -Right where she always had left them. Where such boots were supposed to be. She took her walk as an opportunity to get used to these new creatures of grace. They were gnawing at her toes, but with the will of a bantha that hunted a carrot bound to its face with a stick, she stubbornly proceeded ignoring the pain.

A melody she had heard several streets ago played in her head on repeat, and as such she had no choice, but to humm it aloud. However, the humming ended abruptly when a large man collided with her. When the Zelosian looked up at him, she was unsure of who crashed into whom, but judging by his face, he didn’t care and was very displeased by the encounter. An aggressive voice, like that of a roar escaped his throat:
“Watch where you are going, pup!” But the smile of the autumnal-haired woman didn’t fade.

”You are feeling stressed” the Padawan said gently. The emotions were for her easy to read. More than what she wanted them to be. They leaked out of him like a boiling pot. And as an empath she could sense every part of it, as if they were her own feelings.

A twitch by his eye revealed for her that he was unstable. And her comment was unwelcome. When he punched for her face it was expected. She grabbed his hand easily, lifting and holding it gently in the air.

”Zeke… your name is Zeke”.

“W-wha?!”

“You are looking for a way to get it out. It bubbles and sizzles through every fiber of your being. Yooou… Lost someone” Rahebi said concluding. A seriousness gaze was exchanged between the two individuals. And by then she knew that she was right. That her senses were true.
“It happened recently. Yes, yes. A couple of days ago. You are full of so much hurt”.

“What demon are y-“

“But that is not going to get you anywhere, Zeke. You need to look at all the beautiful things she left you. The happiness she was while being in your life. Not the sorrow and anguish she caused you when she left this world”.

The way he just stood there with his mouth open and disbelief painted on his face, it made her laugh. It was a light and clear laughter that didn’t carry any malicious intent, like that of a child that experienced butterflies in the stomach.

“Hahaha! You look so funny. Dude! Chillax. You look ten years younger when you smile”.
With these words, Rahebi drew a garland of lilies from her bag, pushed it down over the eyes of the man and jumped backwards to create space between them. He teared the flower garland from his face and crushed the plants in his fist. Crunching and breaking the delicate stems and petals. But by then the young woman was already several meters ahead of him. Her very behaviour made him tilt his head and scratch his beard.
She danced in and out of the lights ahead of her, throwing flowers to the sides where she walked. The little pieces of colourful scent laid there in great contrast to the otherwise dull and cold dura-steel. Rahebi was completely unaffected by his tantrum and utterly in her own little world where she was comfortable.

“Crazy girl” he muttered.
But through whatever lens she is watching Coruscant, it must be a nice one, he thought to himself.

If it was up to Rahebi, all of the buildings on Coruscant would be covered with flowers. Just like the beautiful gardens in the temple. And she was sure that it would ease the tension the citizens experienced if they could have something beautiful to look at.

Yes, in a world of my own, in my world… Coruscant would be a wonderland.

It never failed to amuse her how civilians kept getting surprised by the Jedi, even though they were a well-merged part of the city . Buuut… Then again. She looked down her own slender curves.
No. No, she didn’t look like a Jedi. So how would he know? It was not suitable for a Jedi to dress like this. But it felt amazing to- just for once. Forget who she was. And pretend that she was a commoner. That she didn’t have a high blood-count of midi-chlorians in her body. Masking and imitating civilian garments helped her with that. It was her freedom.
Sometimes the civilians’ behaviour was hostile as a response to being a Jedi. But Rahebi tried to be understanding instead of taking it personally. If not for the people, there would barely be anything on Coruscant. It would be a deserted lump of metal.

The people are all unique and need sustenance – love. To reach their utmost potential. To bloom… Like the flowers. They are all equally important. And beautiful. As a Jedi, that is what I’ll try giving to them. Hoping that tomorrow will be a better day. A brighter day. With the little things I can do.

The heels of the black pumps clopped against the ground and drowned out a deep sigh that escaped Rahebi’s plump lips as she looked back over her shoulder towards Zeke. He was but a small spot in the crowd by now.

If only I could do that… If only I was as good at listening to my own advice instead of giving them. Everything would be so much better.

Her travel had lead her into the senate district without realizing it. She first recognized the buildings when she took a break to rest her aching feet and leaned towards a wall. She had not exactly an idea of how she got there. Other than following the feeling in her body. And if anyone asked her to point out the directions she had walked, she would be unable to.

There… A whole different feeling shot through Rahebi’s being. Her eyes widened, she held her breath and the bag dropped from her hands. She covered her mouth and gasped. A scream echoed in her head. Then a jabbing pain hit her somewhere in her torso, even though she was as untouched as she had been in the beginning of the day.
Without question she ran after the sensation with no clear place in mind. The more she ran, the more she got away from the crowd until she had reached an alley. There was no doubt left in her body, when she looked at a hooded person towering above a Zabrak on the ground.

“STOP!”

Immediately the suspect initiated his escape.
Sigh…

“Of course. They never do what you ask from them, do they?” Rahebi growled.
“Argh! Theses shoes! They always get in the way”. By experience she knew that she was faster without them.

So off they went!
With two firm kicks she removed the black pumps from her feet and darted after the masked person. Shards of unknown origin dropped from him and before she could react, she had stepped on them with the soft sole of her feet. She whimpered from the pain, but that didn’t stop her, and green marks of her chlorophyll filled blood splattered behind her on the ground wherever she stepped. With each movement, the shards buried deeper and deeper into her already sore flesh. And unfortunately, it affected her. It slowed her pace.

She panicked. Desperately Rahebi looked for something – anything that could stop him from escaping, as the room between them grew bigger. Her attention landed on some dumpsters.
Concentrating and reaching out with the Force, Rahebi gritted her teeth. Her thick hair lifted from her shoulders and floated above her head.
It was heavy. Very heavy, but she managed to lift several huge trash bags and threw them after the suspect. Though seemingly shocked, he dodged all the bags – and the following metallic trash cans she sent his way before he rounded a corner and escaped her field of vision.

“Cursed!”
It wasn’t as much the pain in her bleeding legs as it was the instant needle-sharp jabbing in her head that made stumble. Panting, she laid down on the cold ground and tried to catch her breath. The pain seared through her head, and she let herself finally give in to it. The sight of the wound on her feet made her whimper yet again. Rahebi usually suppressed pain, and that resulted in situations where she overstrained herself and her abilities. This was only one of many. After all, she was only a Padawan.

Zelosian blood was a thick and slightly gooey substance. It stuck to the pulp of her fingers when she inspected the gaping wounds. The sharp pieces had buried themselves in her. Far too deep in for her to remove on her own. She became dizzy and lifted a hand towards her forehead.
She could hear her own pulse rush through her veins. The heavy beating of her heart. Then her vision became blurry.

How am I going to come home? No… No Orren. It is way too early for me to sleep now. Don’t turn off the light. I hate that.

The darkness of the alley came closer and thickened, wrapping around her in its gentle embrace.

No, no. You can’t force me… I’m gonna complain to the committee of Padawans-under-distress. And if there isn’t one I’m gonna make one…

“Urk… I hope… no one eats my bread”.

Those were the last thoughts that passed her mind before the darkness swallowed her. She lost consciousness.

[tenkalus]

The scene was in a veritable uproar now and the uniformed men and women of Coruscant’s security forces were valiantly trying to keep the reporters for HNE and the general public at bay. But the flashes of snapshots being taken would not be halted. This was news, and the news would not be stopped.

Winter reflected on that fact passively as he walked the scene for the third time. He would need to have his baseline information established firmly before starting to question any witnesses, otherwise any information he gathered would be useless since he would have no framework to fit it into. So he moved in a slow, ever-expanding circle away from the body, always mindful of his own steps so as not to contaminate the scene.

The alley itself was maybe 5 meters wide, so there was plenty of space to maneuver around. As he did so, his eyes worked from the duracrete below him, on up the sides of the buildings that framed the crime scene. As he suspected, there was a distinct lack of security cameras. Because they were in the Senate district, there was plenty of security around, visual and physical. But because of the presence of the security in most plazas, few building owners felt the need to monitor the spaces between their buildings. And why would they? This was the seat of government in the Republic. Murder happened elsewhere, never so close to home.

Winter scoffed to himself. That mentality was dangerously naive. But that’s how it went with the public opinion. He shook his head free of the thought so he could focus.

Like lightsaber training, Winter started on the inner ring and worked his way outwards, taking in all of the details his eyes fell on. But the scene was becoming overwhelming as pedestrians shouted for answers and reporters shouted above them to get their scoop before their competition.

He closed his eyes for a moment and concentrated. The noise of the crowd shouting behind the cordon slowly vanished. The officers securing the perimeter, and the flashing lights of the cameras and police vehicles evaporated. Even Senior Detective Joble, who was having to raise his voice for his instructions to push the cordon back ten more feet, dissolved completely before Winter’s analytical mind. When he opened his eyes again, Winter was in alone with the body in the alley, all sound and movement was removed from his focus. The buildings retained their shape and coloration, but both ends of the alley had become pure white void. This wasn’t the work of the Force. It was a kind of self imposed sensory deprivation he employed so he could see only what he needed to see and hear only what he needed to hear. Everything else was literally white noise.

The Jedi slowly paced away from the body and shifted his practiced gaze to the ground. His deep blue eyes fell on a set of green footprints leading away from the victim and down the alley. In his mind, they began to glow in the same green they were made from, but brighter than that so they would stay in focus. He knelt by them and noticed the space between them, and how often they appeared. They were humanoid in shape, five toes by the end set as the thick green substance smashed against the feet producing it. Whoever had been running down the alley had been moving at a high rate of speed. An unusually high rate of speed for a humanoid.

He glanced back toward the victim, which highlighted in an outline of red, and found a pair of heeled shoes scattered haphazardly on the ground, now highlighted in gray. So whoever had interrupted the killer had kicked their shoes off to run more efficiently. It was an uncommon act for the more common citizen. It was an act that denoted a high degree of courage. And judging by the size of the footprints, the runner either extremely petite, or was relatively young. Probably female as the standard humanoid male foot tended to be both wider and longer.

Back down the alley he went, recreating the scene in still images and shadow figures in his mind as he soaked in the data before him.

The green footprints slicked to an abrupt halt as the rear shadow figure stopped suddenly. He knelt down again and noticed that there was a fractured crystal shard wedged into a crack in the duracrete. Aha, so the green substance was someone’s blood, they’d stepped in some of the shards when they kicked off the heels and the sudden stop must have forced one deeper into their foot. That would be exceptionally painful, for any sentient being.

Finally, he cocked his head from those final footprints and examined the opposite end of the alley, where the lead shadow figure seemed to have disappeared. There, he saw the five trash bags that had apparently spilled out from the dumpster adjacent to them. Winter stood and walked toward the final bit of evidence he could find, the bags now glowing a metallic blue in his mind, his bootfalls echoing noisily in the eerily still alleyway. Had the killer thrown them down to discourage or hamper pursuit? No that couldn’t be it, they were too far from the last set of the runners’ footprints. Closer examination saw that several of the bags had ripped and contained large pieces of discarded office equipment. Altogether, the bags would have had a combined weight of at least 200 pounds easily. No one short of a Wookiee or Feeorin would be able to yank them all down at once while in mid-run. But that then meant…

Winter looked back at the last set of footprints. Fifteen feet away. That person would be too small to lift the bags themselves.

A Force user? It would not have been the killer, that had used the Force to throw the bags, it would have served no purpose and the runner was too far behind them for that to be effective.

Intriguing….

Analysis complete, Winter blinked a few times as he felt a hand tugging on his shoulder. The white-world shifted back into reality and noise and light assaulted his senses.

“Hey! Lockhaert, I’m talking to you! I said what do you think?!” Joble was howling.

He had to clear his throat and shake his head to orient himself as he stood and regarded his fellow detective. “Sorry….How many witnesses did you say you have?”

“Two.” He responded as he gestured back toward the cordon. “One who saw a red-haired human female running from the scene, and the other is the female in question who is currently our prime suspect. We found her out cold by those footprints, she’s in the back of the med-van now as she sustained injury while running. Medics said they pulled those rocks out of her feet. When she wakes up, we are going to take her in for questioning.”

“Zelosian.” Winter said absently, looking at the med-van in question down the way.

“Come again?”

“You said the first witness stated a human girl was running, she’s not. She’s Zelosian.” He clarified, bringing his gaze back to the detective, “These footprints are covered in her blood. Hard to tell the difference at a glance between human and Zelosian but the thick green blood is a dead giveaway if it is present. And you can eliminate her as a suspect, detective. She was chasing down your killer. Kicked her shoes off over there to get better traction and tried and catch them, but she failed to notice the shards on the ground. She’s not a suspect, I’d say she was rather heroic. That girl’s intervention stopped your killer from completely removing vital evidence.”

Again, the detective looked at the information presented to him and was slowly nodding his affirmation as it processed. “Yeah, yeah that makes sense. Hell of a thing then, girl can’t be more than 17 years old.”

A teenage Force User on Coruscant who showed bravery instead of fear. The list of things on who this particular witness could be, was getting extremely small indeed.

“I’d like to see her now, detective.” Winter stated as he walked back to the mouth of the alley.

“Won’t do you no good kid. She’s still out cold.”

“All the same, I’d like to try if you’ll permit?”

Joble shrugged, “Sure. This is starting to get interesting, I’ll keep the press off you. Do what you need to. Oh, and here is the code key for the binders she’s restrained in. We had to make sure she wasn’t the killer before releasing her.”

Winter nodded and took the key. He opened the back of the med-van and dismissed the medic who was finishing up wrapping the girls feet, having treated them with an application of kolto and carefully bandaging them to stop bleeding. Beside the gurney was a vial of green coated crystal fragments secured in an evidence jar, presumably having been removed from the girls feet.

As it turned out, the girl in question began to stir as he took the place of the now vacant medic beside her, and as he sat down, his jacket opened further and presented the lightsaber on his hip for plain sight.

Reporters were about to swarm the back of the van, trying to get a quote when Winter raised his left hand and casually curled his fingers toward himself. As if on beckon, the doors hissed shut again, barring view from the press and muffling the noise beyond.

He kept eye contact with the girl the entire time and smiled charmingly, radiating a sense of confidence and peace. Oddly, she seemed somewhat familiar to him but for some reason, Winter couldn’t place if or where he’d seen her face before. That was immediately bothering to him, as someone who usually recalled details like that.

“Hello there ma’am. My name is Winter Lockhaert.” He started by introducing himself. Basic psychology said that the young woman might potentially be disoriented at having woken up in an unfamiliar place, and a kind smile and warm tone would help ease panic. “First off, you’re alright. We are in the back of a med-van, still on scene. You’ve been unconscious for about an hour. The doc just left and he did a bang up job patching up your feet. But let’s get the immediate questions answered for you, okay? No, you are not in danger, nor are you under arrest. You are safe, and no one here will hurt you. I am here helping investigate the scene where we found you. Don’t mind the binders, they were just a precaution. I’ll have those off in a moment. But in the meantime, can you tell me your name, and what you saw? Anything you can tell me would be most helpful.”

[Muffinzky]

“Mmmmmph”.
Rahebi tried to roll back on her stomach but couldn’t. The sound of doors that opened woke her up. Her headache was still present, but it was much less intensive. Then she tried to cover her eyes with her hands, as bright lights lit into her face and blinded her from the ceiling.

“Nooo… Just… five minutes longer”.
But neither this was possible. Her vision was still slightly blurry. When the fog cleared from her mind, she discovered that her arms were strapped and immediately she started to push forward with her chest and kicked with her legs in an attempt to break free. A masculine voice said something in the background, but she didn’t understand it. It sounded like a mutter, as she concentrated on the horrible device that restrained her and why she was trapped. She felt a bit numb from the anaesthetic.

“What is this?! Let me go!”

It was first there.
When she actually focused on the person next to her that she stopped struggling. A tall man with dark hair and a friendly smile looked down on her. The lamp above him made it from Rahebi's point look like he had a halo around his head. His mouth moved. That meant that he spoke! But she didn’t listen. The emerald green eyes wandered all over his features and shape and took notice of even minor traits. Her gaze met his and locked there to a stop. His eyes were blue… like the never-ending clean oceans of Tion. And she couldn’t help herself. But to stare at him.
Like a starving dog would look at a hamburger.

“Hello there ma’am”.
He mumbled something, but she still didn’t take notice. She was busy thinking about everything, but what he said.

“My name is Winter Lockhaert”.

Who’s that?... Wow, he’s handsome.

“First off, you’re alright”.

Am I dead?

“Mumble mumble med-van”.

Where is my bread?

“Argy-bargy bang up job patching up your feet”.

I am hungry. Did he take my bread? It surely doesn’t look like he needs any. But maybe it takes a lot of food to maintain himself. He does have quite the healthy size.

“Yada yada under arrest”.

Has he arrested my bread? He could have asked. I’d have shared… Buut maybe not while I’m being strapped down in a tiny room.

She tried to take some deep breaths. For some reason he had a calming effect on her and the more she relaxed, the slower her pulse became, the clearer turned his speech until it returned to something that that made sense.
“I am here helping investigate the scene where we found you (…)”.

“Come again?”
Rahebi wrinkled her nose and little fine lines became visible between her brows and the nose bridge. Her septum piercing wobbled in the movement. Crime scene? Oh yes… That was right. The little Zelosian female did discover something highly suspicious in the alley. She wondered if he was a representative of the Republic. Until she noted the lightsaber on his hip. So, he was from the temple as well. Or at least, he had to be a Jedi.
She didn’t wear hers…

A lock of the uncontrollable curly hair fell into her face and tickled her, and she tried to blow it away, since her arms were still caught. That didn’t help anything. It raised up in the air. Then fell stubbornly back down over her eyes again. For of all possibilities of genetics for hair, Rahebi had to be born with the ones that made it behave alive like tumble weed running over the desert and with the resilience like a liana climbing for the sun. The moisture in the air this day made it look especially poofy, and it almost acted like a pillow on its own.

“My name is… Rahebi. Rahebi Terai… But I am really not sure how much I can help you, dude. Iiii didn’t see much. That person waaas-”

She shook her head, so the worn copper choker rattled around her neck, when the detective unlocked the tight binders. It was an instant alleviation, and she rubbed her wrists. Red marks where the binders were removed started to form. They did a well-done job restraining her… A little too well, if someone would ask her. She felt a bit sore.

“Ah! Was very fast, thank you. I think it was a man. Though, I couldn’t see it. He was wearing a hooded shirt… And I think a scarf. Or a mask of sorts around his face. He stood risen over the citizen and leaned down towards him when I dropped by. His body was very squared. It could almost only be a man. I don’t think I know any species with that masculine females”.

Now she could sit up on the medic bed, and the Padawan took the opportunity to get a closer view of the Jedi. Ignoring everything and all laws called personal space as well as the very gravity of the situation, she leaned closer to the man until there only was a head of distance between their faces. He had kind eyes, she thought to herself. And luscious hair.
It was just looking. That couldn’t be against the code, could it?

She waved her long eyelashes and the corners of her full lips curled up in a careful smile. Looking at him insistently with fascination, a bit like a biologist that had discovered a weird animal and observed it for the first time. Her freckled cheeks flushed slightly and created lightly green marks on her face.

Then suddenly and without warning she sat back again. Reached for the back pocket of her shorts and pulled a pack of bubble-gum up. She pushed two pieces out of the package and stuffed them quickly into her mouth as a distraction. She needed it. Now. Before she lost herself watching him.
This was a serious matter. She turned her head towards some of the medical instruments.

-Pfffffffffffffffffffffffffffffft – Pop!

Very serious!
A big lime green bubble appeared between her lips and grew till it was half the size of her face. It punctured, and she poked it back into her mouth with a pointy nail before proceeding. A scent of sweet peppermint twirled through the air and started to spread in the little medical van.

“I followed him for a while. But then he dropped…”
She nodded towards the green coated shards the medics had extracted from her feet.
“Those things. If not for those, I’m sure that I could have caught him!”

Rahebi crossed her arms and pouted her lower lip, her eyes evading those of the detective. It was evident that she took it personally. She raised one of her now wrapped feet for further inspection and sighed heavily.

“What are those anyway? He dropped them when he ran... When he started to outmatch my speed, I tried to reduce it by offence. Unfortunately, he was impressively agile. And dodged my attack altogether. He turned right around a corner and disappeared. That’s the last thing I know of him”.

Once again a long lock of hair fell lightly into her face. With great annoyance, Rahebi grabbed her hair in a strangling motion, smacked it several times back into the unruly mane and held it tightly, almost as if she wrestled a huge snake. She tied it into a knot. Then exhaled with relief.

Finally!

“Aaaand… Now I am here… I guess. Buuut, dude, I don’t think I quite got your name”.

In a polite manner the Padawan reached her hand out for him, her smile grown cheeky. A little sparking glow was visible in her eyes.

-POOF!-

The knot of orange curls escaped its confinement into freedom! Now more voluminous than ever and full of static electricity. It pasted back in front of Rahebi’s face and covered her view of the detective.

Somewhere.
In the dark of the orange jungle.
A growl of frustration sounded.

Thus was the day to day life – of the Zelosian curse.

[tenkalus]

Detail work was imperative to an investigator. If one did not know to look for clues, or by contrast, which clues to take note of, one didn’t solve problems. It was all detail work and body language. Now while Winter was good at reading people physically, he was no Lorrdian.

Ironically enough in this instance, he really didn’t have to be.

Internally he took a step back and chuckled in his head, but on the outside, he remained cool and calm and in control of himself. He certainly had a live one on his hands here. But as amused as he was, he kept his mind focused on reading her body language. She was eccentric and slightly wild, obviously disoriented, and confused. Oddly enough, she was still able to forcefully redirect her thoughts to the task at hand and provide a description of the killer, basic though it was.

Terai…. Terai…. Where did he know that name from? It was driving him mad. Now other parts of his mind were waking up trying to connect the recollections that were pinging this Rahebi Terai as familiar to him. The face was foreign to his knowledge no matter how hard he dug. But it was the loosening of the hair which created a veil between them that connected the dots for him.

A memory flooded his mind’s eye of a certain Jedi Master walking out of the temple archives, her robed yet barefoot padawan in tow. The learner had a curtain of fiery red hair, Winter had seen her from behind.

Ishtar Lazuli. She had been Master Lazuli’s Padawan.

Master Lazuli had been tragically lost in the year prior, meaning her Padawan had been left adrift. A pang of guilt shot quickly through Winter at the thought. He’d met Ishtar on a number of occasions and had liked the woman immensely. She was the kind of no-nonsense Jedi that bent rules when they needed to be bent. She’d even taught him a maneuver or two in the sparring circle. But when she’d been killed, Winter hadn’t even considered what would happen to her student. The lack of robes wasn’t terribly off-putting by itself, as Winter himself found it easier to do his job in casual attire.

But the lack of a lightsaber was a bit more telling. Had Rahebi been on her own this entire year? Without guidance from a Master or reassignment for the Council? Were things so dire in the Order that someone could just slip through the cracks so easily? That thought troubled him more than anything. This girl was still a Jedi. She still had a family at the temple. Though after only an instant of hesitation, Winter decided not to bring up such things. Not yet anyway. He was an unknown to Rahebi and such conversations would likely be unwelcome. So he switched gears back into professional mode.

He nodded as information was being passed to him, filing it away mentally. “Male, muscular, hooded, very agile. Alright I’ll pass that along, thank you.”

But why had she been found unconscious? She didn’t mention anything in her retelling of being personally assaulted, nor did Winter see any bruises on her face or exposed skin. So his mind flashed back to the alley and the metallic blue glow he’d placed around the heavy trash bags. He used a color coding system in his mental processing to file things away for quick recollection in exactly this kind of situation.

Aha… she’d used the Force in such a monumental application for her skill level that it had dominated her focus and concentration. Her body hadn’t been used to such strain. A fully trained Jedi Knight could potentially have done what she had at a solid run without stopping, given the level of training and experience they’d already gone through. But a Padawan? That she even moved so many at once was impressive. Clearly she was gifted, if a bit headstrong.

And then came the ten thousand credit question. What were the shards?

“That, Padawan Terai, I do not know.” He answered, looking at her directly when he said the word ‘Padawan’ softly. “I’ll be requesting that a few of the shards come back with us to the temple for analysis when the police clean up the scene. But in the meantime…”

He glanced back out the back of the med-van where the flashing lights and sounds were still fighting for dominance and attention. After a moment, he was certain enough that no one could see them well enough to raise an eyebrow over what he was about to do.

Very discreetly, Winter took the specimen jar from the table and used some tweezers to carefully extract one of the cleaner shards from it. Then sealed the jar and passed it to Rahebi for safe keeping. “Hold that for me a moment, won’t you? Thanks.”

Carefully, he placed the shard between two fingers, making sure not to touch the blood on the other end. The shard was more of a sliver, as were most of the recovered pieces. Barely three centimeters in length and perhaps a handful of hairs wide.

“Name’s Winter Lockhaert, since you missed it the first time by the way. Don’t go anywhere, I’ll be right back.” He offered a playful wink and then closed his eyes to concentrate. Slowly, he opened himself to the Force, letting it trickle into his consciousness and fill his immediate awareness. He took that awareness and directed it down his arm and through his hand and fingertips, finally channeling it into the crystal sliver itself.

He focused on the crystal and clouded images began to form in his mind. The shard was no longer a shard in his mind, but rather a whole. All assembled and complete. Together, the shards did in fact make a crystal, jagged in nature and long. The finished product was maybe three inches long and an inch and a half wide, and a sickly green in color. The image shifted for Winter and suddenly the crystal was sticking out of a man’s chest. It looked as though it had been used as a weapon. But the intent wasn’t violence, it was something else.

Knowledge?

The images rapidly faded as his mind snapped back to the present. Five minutes had gone by and he was blinking rapidly at the crystal to regain his bearings.

Med-van, Rahebi Terai, crime scene. Got it.

“Well… I believe our killer is looking for some kind of knowledge and this crystal substance is connected to the search somehow.”

Psychometry was a tricky ability to master. It was hard not to impose your own thoughts into the images you were receiving. Only the clearest of minds could maintain a connection to an object in hand.

Winter shifted his deep blue gaze back at the Padawan before him. He slipped the shard back into the jar and returned it to its original place on the small shelf behind him. “Well, how about it Terai? Are you up for a bit of an adventure, or are you content with sitting back at the temple and letting your feet heal? I could probably put another set of eyes to good use.”

[Muffinzky]

Did he know her? Rahebi did not recall seeing him before. Obviously if she had, she would remember someone with a face like that. She dwelled on his appearance once again and watched him observantly while munching on her gum.

He took the glass with shards. Was he even allowed to do that? She didn’t know and excused herself that she just was a Padawan. There were limits to her knowledge. And she acknowledged that.
She didn’t get to dwell long however, when the glass suddenly out of nowhere was pushed into her embrace.

“U-uhm. Uhm okay!?”
This was weird. He was weird. But his name was handsome as well!
Winter… Like the cold? She repeated the investigators name a couple of times in her thoughts. Only to look confused at him. Was he going anywhere? Why would she go anywhere?!

The wink, even though a simple gesture made her swallow a lump that formed in her throat, and she felt heat rush to her cheeks as the green hue began returning to her face. She felt a bit weird. Her heart stopped beating for a couple seconds, and her pupils dilated slightly.
A craving to grasp something became intense. She looked around, only to return to her hair. It was being held tightly. Not in another attempt to restrain it, but rather… Just to have something to hold. The orange strands of hair were being tangled lovingly between her fingers until she could feel her pulse slow down.
And she praised herself happy that he had his eyes closed.

He isss…
Rahebi narrowed her eyes and crooked her head.
-Meditating?

Disturbing a meditating Jedi could sometimes be like waking up a sleeping rancor, so she sat neatly where she had been all the time and tapped her long nails against each other, as by a nervous tick.

As the minutes went on, Rahebi started to wonder if Mr. Lockhaert had fallen asleep… Because Rahebi certainly was. She leaned over and fought to keep herself awake when she noticed movement from the investigator again.

With a fast jerk, she sat up, straightened her back and smiled at him. Who was sleeping? CERTAINLY NOT RAHEBI.

The wrinkles on Rahebi’s nose returned. A habit she had obtained when she concentrated or didn’t understand things. And how any of these jagged little things of horrible dimensions could be used for that was a riddle to her. She turned her head to the left. Then to the right. Then back again and looked from Winter to the crystal.

Couldn’t the suspect just have used a datapad if it is information he is looking for?

The inspector's next words made the Zelosian’s eyes widen. Little stars sparkled in them. She sent him a big Hollywood smile, clenched her fist.

Then the med-van resounded with a loud squeal.

“YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!”

Her legs rose up, as if they were an independent entity until she started walking back and forth on the medical bed, her hands waving and groping in her hair, as she had nowhere to put them in a movement of joy.

“Do you mean that?! You really mean that? Meee? With you? Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh!”

But that meant!
“No more dusty data at the temple. No more of the same worn hallways! Do you really mean it?”

She walked all the way to the edge of the medical bed and had completely forgotten about time and place-
As well as where she was standing. She leaned towards Winter. Then narrowed her eyes slightly.
“You really mean it, right?... Because if you don’t mean it. I’m going to be really disappointed”

"Reaaaaally disappointed" she growled.

Rahebi lifted her leg, gave them only a short gaze of a couple of seconds, then looked back at Winter.
“Naaaah. It’s just a scratch. It’s not like I haven’t tried to have a cut on my feet before”.
In her eagerness she took another step towards Winter while locking her eyes with his. But there was no more medical bed to step at. Instead she took a step in the air. And tripped down from the medical bed with another squeal.

“Yaaaaaarh!”
…

“I’m okay! Everything is okay. The floor is very nice down here. I rate it 10 out of 10. Much comfortable”.

[tenkalus]

Winter was rubbing his ears to clear the sudden ringing there from Rahebi shouting in such an enclosed space. But even though his noise threshold had been exceeded by a few decibels, Winter remained amused. She was certainly a live one.

It was as he thought. She’d been all but forgotten at the temple, relegated to menial tasks and laborious jobs to keep her moving. It was a poor reward for someone who dedicated their lives to the order. He didn’t know anything about Rabehi outside of the fact that she’d been Master Lazuli’s student. But when it came to people of her age, menial tasks just wouldn’t do. She needed action, something to keep the mind occupied. Sifting through data or dusting shelves would be punishment, rather than purpose.

This would be an opportunity for Winter to engage her and challenge her, to test her knowledge and skills. Yes there were dangers involved in his line of work, but that was true for all Jedi. She had been chosen as an apprentice by a skilled Master, and Winter refused to believe that master Lazuli was a poor judge of character.

Now for the first test. “If you so choose, I promise not to leave you behind. However, let me reiterate that I will be pulling you into an active murder investigation. You will follow my lead and do what I say, when I say it. If we find this killer and things go badly and I tell you to run, you run. Understood?” He waited for a response before nodding. “Alright well first thing’s first. I’m going to step outside and have a word with the senior detective and see about getting some of those shards transferred to the temple for analysis. When we leave this med-van, reporters are going to bombard you with questions. It is imperative that you say nothing to anyone. Keep your eyes straight and focused. Then we are going to head back to the temple as well so you can get cleaned up and changed. You’ll need your lightsaber on you when you travel with me, though loose civilian attire is acceptable.”

Again, he waited for an affirmation before nodding himself. With that, he shifted his weight to the back of the van and opened the door to the riot of cameras and questions. It was almost overwhelming for a veteran like Winter. He’d been on murder cases before, but never something quite so high profile. This kind of thing simply did not happen so close to the senate. Not at the seat of government.

He had to push his way through the crowd to make it back to detective Joble, but he made sure not to look any reporters in the eye or even mutter to them. After a quick word with Joble and a nod of affirmation, Winter was making his way back to his open cockpit speeder he’d borrowed from the temple motor pool. There, he waited for Rahebi and kept an eye on her progress through the throng of chaos, before they’d head back to the Jedi Temple proper.

[Muffinzky]

Rahebi kept sitting on the floor while wincing and rubbing her thigh as that took of for the fall. When Winter spoke, she was way too occupied to try and get up. Instead she looked up at the older Jedi with brightened concentration and nodded with zealous enthusiasm, so the golden septum rattled, though…
She glanced to the side shortly, if only for a few seconds.

He just promised not to leave her behind… Could she do the exact opposite, if ordered to?
It twisted somewhere in her insides, and a guilt that sometimes showed its ugly face passed in her mind like a looming shadow, ready to attack when it saw that weakness once again returned to her. It was only a question about time.
For if she had been more insisting, if she had behaved differently, if she had done more, trained harder…
Would she be here? Would Ishtar still be here? Walking around beside her. Sometimes it felt like it was Rahebi that betrayed her master for letting that happen. Like it was her that left her old Master behind.
The question had been asked a million times throughout the year. And she still didn’t know the answer when the questions echoed through her mind in the dark, when people went to rest, and silence fell over the temple.

The young woman nodded once again, then got back on her feet to dust of her clothing from the debris of the floor.
“Understood, Lockhaert” she said, then shook her head slightly, so the curly locks whipped back and forth. Like a dog that just woke up from its slumber.

Her attention went towards the back of the van, and truly – even before it opened: Now she noticed a lot of muttered, shouting voices and felt an uneasy energy around the car. She imagined it would sound like that, if she could hear the world through a tin can.
And when the doors of the van slid open, she followed Winter to the edge of the entrance and stopped, looking around at all the paparazzi. Lights kept flashing in her face. Fast and in different colours. The water puddles on the ground reflected the lights and only made them stronger. She could barely hear anything since they all spoke in between each other at created a blur of white noise. All pushing and fighting to get the best picture, comment or to get closer to them in general.

A lot of emotional static was present, but slowly, out of curiosity, she concentrated on a few single individuals closest to her and reached out with the Force as she listened.

This got to be the scoop of the year! There is no way I am letting this fish of the hook easily. Now speak to me doll face!

A woman holding a microphone looked at Rahebi with pity.
She looks so young… Why is the child here in the first place?

It became overwhelming quickly, and Rahebi shook her head once again to abstract herself from the situation, whipping a paparazzi in the face with her long hair, when he tried to reach out for her and grab her. Following Winter’s example, she proceeded after him, but after her zoning out by the van, he was several meters in front of her. And the way out of the crowd that he had created closed quickly.

Eyes straight… focus, she repeated in her thought.
But that was very easy for him to say, when the road straight ahead was off-limits and a microphone aggressively pushed and rubbed against her cheek, when she tried to!

For an experienced investigator, this was easy. Winter radiated an aura of confidence, politeness, calm and don’t-fuck-with-me attitude. With Rahebi… the same couldn’t be said. Besides Winter’s body language, he was taller and more of a sturdy build than the young Zelosian. She was slim and athletic and could easily be pushed around physically. Most of all, she reminded of a puppy that was lost, and the press took advantage of this. They wanted their pound of meat. And Rahebi was an easy way to get to it.

“What’s your name miss? What is your connection to the case?” one reporter asked. The cameras moved closer to her, she covered her face with her arm and turned it to the side. It seemed like no matter where she looked, there was another one to take the place of the other.

Then two cameras pushed against each other in a fight to get the most of her attention.
“Did you see the murderer?!” – “Did YOU do it?”
“Do you have any comments, miss?”

“U-uhm, excuse me?... That is really unpleasant”
Wrinkling on her nose, she slapped several cameras and microphones away from getting some close and personal TLC.

As she looked over the crowd and wondered how she could get to Winter once again, a feeling rushed slowly over her body, and the many voices merged together. Her pupils dilated.
“It’s like a roaring, furious ocean of mass. Thoughts. Egoism. That all struggles to survive, with the willingness to stomp each other” she whispered for herself.

-BZZZZT!-
A flash illuminated her face, stopping her vision and causing her pupils to retract violently, blinding her in the process.

“What was that, miss?” a reporter shouted. Then an army of microphones shot up to her face.
…

This is enough. They are not letting me through.

A quick calculation went through her mind. The press acted like a fence between her and Winter. She couldn’t use the Force visibly to affect the crowd. – Not while being recorded at least. That would cause a ruckus without comparison. Behind them was an old storage house. It was tall enough to hide her from the press, yet one of the shorter buildings with only one floor. If she could reach it…

Suddenly, Rahebi raised her voice and pointed in the opposite direction of the building.
“LOOK! The suspect is back! Over there. It went behind the wall!”

Like an animal with a million eyes, the press turned its attention towards the place Rahebi pointed to. If only for a moment, she took the opportunity to push herself through the mass of flesh. With aid of the Force, she ran towards the storage house to gain speed. Jumping between the building next to it and the wall of the storage house, she reached the roof and disappeared from sight over the top.

The orange hair and a set of careful green eyes appeared on the other side of the roof shortly and looked down on Winter, as if to check if more paparazzi had found their way to him.
“I’m sorry! That took some time. It was a bit more difficult than I had expected, Lockhaert”.

Clenching her legs around a drainpipe, she slowly slid down across the creaking construction until she could plant her feet safely on the ground and walked over to Winter.

[tenkalus]

It was interesting, watching Rahebi deal with the reporters. He watched from afar as she got caught in the throng. This was as much a test for her as a young Jedi as it was to see how she would be able to interact on the case. Very obviously it was overwhelming for the younger woman, but her handle of the situation was mostly satisfactory to him. Almost all of the subtle parameters he’d set for her had been completed.

Rahebi didn’t have the experience or presence of a veteran investigator like himself, so the crowd pretty well closed up on her. He could feel the emotional distress radiating off of her as well, as she tried to get through unsuccessfully. And while she did violate his initial order of “say nothing”, the fact that she had said something to alleviate the pressure of her situation, without saying anything of actual substance to the press still fell in line with his instructions. What was said and how it was said to the mob lacked in finesse, but was nonetheless effective. He would no doubt have to deal with the fallout of that response later, when the press found out Rahebi was a Jedi, as they no doubt would. For if there was one thing he was absolutely certain of when it came to the press, it was that eventually they always dug far enough to learn the truth.

But it would be minor. She was young and impetuous. Finesse could be taught to those that wish to learn. Time would tell of Rahebi would turn out to be one of those people. Winter wasn’t exactly looking for a Padawan himself, and the intent was not to maneuver into that type of situation, but he did feel a kind of emotional obligation with Rahebi, to cover the lapse in training and attention she’d been given at such a critical stage in her development. The gap between loss and recovery was navigated precariously on a very thin line of understanding. One could not be left to their own devices for terribly long while going through the grieving process, as it bred resentment and developed feelings of singular detachment from society.

It was one of the major points of learning in the Jedi Code that Winter had descended into heated arguments on with other Jedi. The Jedi preached wisdom in not grieving for the lost, as they are not truly gone in the Force. Grieving led to sadness and sadness could go into resentment. Negative emotions that could fuel the Dark Side, certainly. However, such a mantra also lacked empathy and compassion from Winter’s point of view. While yes, he agreed that beloved mentors and friends passed into the Force upon death, it was the physical form that a person missed. Not being able to reach out and touch someone you’d come to know as part of yourself.

If losing a lightsaber to circumstance was supposed to be like losing an arm (as Jedi were taught to see such tools as an extension of themselves), what must Padawan Rahebi Terai have felt at losing a beloved Master? And how could the Council punish her for loving her mentor by assigning her menial tasks like dusting, and see that as sufficient to get her back on her feet?

Rahebi was going to be at a crossroads soon, Winter knew. And the path that she chose to walk may very well lose the Order a promising young Jedi if they weren’t careful. That was a tragedy that Winter wasn’t willing to just let happen. Not if there was actually something he could do about it that wouldn’t stunt the growth of the Jedi in question.

He nodded his slight approval to Rahebi when she approached the speeder and motioned for her to get in. “Don’t worry about it, you did fine.” He responded to her apology. “We call that speaking without speaking.” Winter explained as he hopped in and kicked the engine to life, “Meaning you offer hollow information. You give offer words without meaning or substance. It is effective in some situations. But we will have to work on your delivery later, should you find yourself in a similar situation in the future. Something to be mindful of, Rahebi, is that under normal circumstances what was said would be perfectly fine, as the public will not know you to be a Jedi until later into the investigation. A civilian offering a bit of false information to free themselves up is normal. Unfortunately as Jedi we don’t have that luxury. If you had been in your robes while saying that, the political blowback on the order would have been significant. As Jedi we represent the order as a whole body, wherever we are and at all times. No one outside of the order would readily understand the burden that places on us in assisting them. But it is one we accept. And please, call me Winter. We will be getting to know each other well enough in this investigation that we can be on a first name basis.”

Winter offered a charming smile as he ascended into the skylanes and powered them back to the Jedi Temple. He had made sure not to sound chiding in his explanation. His tone carried that of an amused lecture, with the intent to inform, not to chastise.

“When we get back, I want you to see the healers. First responders are talented in their work, but few have the ability to look for ailments using the Force, and fewer still think about it as a possibility. With these shards being related to the structure of a holocron, we shouldn’t be too careful in handling them. I want one of ours to check out your feet. When you are cleared by them, go ahead and get changed and meet me at the archives. We have some research to do.”

The first step in any investigation was gathering information. Winter had a process that would shorten the list of possibilities and leave only the most plausible theories. When you eliminated all logical possibilities, whatever remained, however illogical, must be the truth.

But first thing was first. He had been asked to report back to the council when he had concluded his initial contact with the case. They wanted to be briefed on whether or not this was in fact a Jedi matter.

Winter Lockhaert was thoroughly convinced at this point that it was.

And so the pair drove back to the temple in relative silence, both lost in their own thoughts for the moment.

Twenty minutes later, Winter was back on his own and standing before the council. He’d briefed them on his initial findings, the crystal shards, his impressions of them and that Rahebi had been on scene. The circle of Masters turned the information over in their forum before coming to the conclusion that Winter was correct and that he should continue.

“Knight Lockhaert, you are hereby tasked to track down this alleged “Crystal Killer” and to bring them to justice. We will reach out to the senate and inform the body that we will be taking over this investigation.”

Winter had to keep himself from wincing. It was a blunt move, and a bold one that said, “This is ours, and we are in charge so back off.”

“With respect, Master. I would prefer to keep Coruscant Police involved in the investigation. Taking over completely puts me in the spotlight and hampers me from working at the highest capacity. It also allows us to forge bonds with local law enforcement, who have an admittedly demeaning outlook on Jedi interfering in their jobs. I’d like for them to spearhead the investigation so that I may be free to move behind the scenes, as it were.”

They thought about that briefly but conceded the point. “Very well. Now if there is nothing else, May the Force be with you.”

“Actually there is one more thing Masters. When she is cleared by medical, I’ll be bringing Padawan Terai along for this investigation.”

Silence.

The room filled with an almost palpable sensation of confusion. Some of the masters exchanged looks while others remained passive outwardly. “To what end?” They asked finally.

Winter folded his hands behind his back and considered. “I looked over her record while I was waiting to come in here. Since the death of her Master, Rahebi Terai has been floating around the archives doing menial tasks. In the few moments I’ve had to speak to her I can immediately tell that she has a very high level of energy. Organizing data and cleaning shelves might be a necessary role to the very foundation of our order, but it does not befit the person doing it. She’s at a crucial point in her development and giving her work as trivial as dusting will only further encourage her to resent the Jedi and eventually leave the Order. She needs something to apply herself to. Something real. She needs to get back into the thick of things.”

“If she is harboring resentment toward the Jedi for caring for her well being, then she has not taken to the principals of our order and-” Came the voice of a master behind him, but Winter cut them off before they could continue.

“Surely,” he began, speaking over them. He didn’t even turn to address them eye to eye, “My Masters are not implying that we should punish a promising Jedi for grieving the sudden and mysterious death of her mentor, then being left down in the archives for a year as though we had forgotten her. Why, such a statement might come with it the social consequence of being interpreted by others as being negligent.”

“Careeeeful Winter. You’re bordering the line of defiance here.” Another master warned. “The matter of Padawan Terai has been on the lips of this council of late and will be decided at another time. She has not been forgotten, Lockhaert, and she is not being punished for feeling grief. We have assigned her to tasks best suited for keeping the mind busy so as to be able to process. But right now you have a murder to solve.”

Winter never faltered in his casual grin. “Of course Master. Then the council, naturally, will not mind if I utilize all resources available to me, while trying a different approach to Padawan Terai’s mental recovery so that the mystery may be solved while bringing one of our own back into the fold.” He said, overtly optimistic.

He heard a sigh behind and to the left of him. He’d outmaneuvered them into having to let him do what he wanted with their blessing. They couldn’t be seen as negligent to their own order and they knew it. Allowing Winter to take Rahebi on the investigation was allowing them to save face for a mistake.

“Very well, you have the council’s support. Good luck, Winter.”

The smile remained as he bowed respectfully. “Thank you Masters, I will begin at once.”

When he was finished with the Council, he made a few com calls and headed down to the archives to wait for Rahebi, assuming she wasn’t already there. Hopefully she would choose something appropriate to wear inside the temple.

[Muffinzky]

Sigh

”No! No? No. - No, no, no. It doesn’t feel right”.

Shirts, dresses and different kinds of colourful garments went flying through the air. Rahebi had all of her belongings divided in a system based on how necessary they were. Her favourite items were in a chest. And the rest could be found somewhere in the corners of her tiny room. Or under her bed with dust bunnies and other demon creatures.
The room itself wasn’t very big, and with only a few elements to use as a light, but on the windows shelf were several exotic flowers in bloom: Candlewick flowers that reacted to the dark by cracking their curly petals open and revealing an illuminated and fire-like centre as well as a spicy scent. That way it would never get entirely dark in Rahebi’s quarters. And to her that was symbolic.
Symbols of foreign languages entwined each other on thin pages of flimsiplast, all spread out on her bed. But there. On her pillow was a familiar face. One that ensured that she never was alone.

“And what are YOU laughing at?”

She looked over at the old sand-filled doll. One of its button eyes was hanging in a thin thread. Several places of the fabric had been stitched with patches. Despite the worn quality of the doll, it still smiled. With a great resemblance to a voodoo doll. Where others would find it creepy as hell, Rahebi connected it with comfort and safety. As it was one of the earliest gifts someone ever had granted her. And the only gift Ishtar ever had given her with no official reason to.

Sometimes it was even as it spoke. It had been her company for so long, and she had made conversations with it when she felt lonely. At times she was in doubt if there was an actual voice, or if it was simply the echo of her mind.

“I don’t know what to wear. It’s different… It feels weird”.

Starting somewhere, a deep breath was taken, and she gained the courage to crawl under her bed and pick up the box where she had placed her lightsaber. Coughing hard as a consequence. A thin layer of dust had gathered on it, witnessing for how long she had left it there. She blew the dust off and opened the creaking lid.

Holding the hilt, it felt a bit like a meeting a stranger or an old friend after several year. The weight, the angle of the metal: She threw it up in the air, grabbed it again and activated the buzzing green blade, bathing her entire quarters and her face in a green light. Green like her eyes. -The feel of the whole lightsaber was something she had to get used to again

Turning it off, she placed it in the utility belt, slid out of the t-shirt and shorts. And back into the crème coloured tunic and black pants. It wasn’t as much a tunic any more, as it had become a long waistcoat, since Rahebi had the sleeves removed while her Master was still alive.

Looking at her reflection in the mirror on the wall, she turned around herself a couple of times.
“I guess… This will do. Even though I like the other set much better”.

After creeping back into her boots, she sulked a bit. The soles of her feet were sore, but the healers had concluded that they were only flesh wounds. Which meant that she was fine, but if she wasn’t careful, she could slow Winter down. And Rahebi didn’t want to destroy his progress or make him regret his offer. It was the safest bet to step into something protective. But she still didn’t like how the feeling of the ground got lost due to the layer that wrapped around her skin.

“Juuuust a couple adjustments and we are getting there”.

Rahebi corrected her hair, making sure it was collected nicely over her shoulder – and pulled slightly down in the neck opening of the maltreated tunic, so it showed of some of her chest.
“Jup! Just perfect!”

Just like ANY female Jedi would dress themselves!
…
(At least if they had any sense of taste and individuality according to the Zelosian female).

When the Padawan entered the Archive she reached out with the Force after Winter’s presence. And since she knew the area like her own pocket by now it didn’t take her long to find the investigator.

“Winter” she greeted with a nod.

[tenkalus]

The archive was always an interesting place for Winter. The Jedi library was one of the greatest repositories of knowledge known to the galaxy. There had been generations of Jedi who all pooled information here, unbiased and factual. It was a great place to start an investigation.

He’d already been there for twenty minutes before Rahebi showed up, and when she called his name he looked up and waved her over.

Good, she’d chosen very practical clothing for her unknown task. Light and maneuverable if needed but also casual enough so as not to draw attention to them.

“Ah, Rahebi. Good.” he began, kicking off of the desk he’d been sitting on. “Glad to see you’re moving around okay.”

He motioned for her to take a seat at the computer behind him. This was the critical part of the investigation, information gathering on the scene was important in its own right, but motive was every bit as critical to know. To know motive, one needed to know the victim.

“In these archives lay the collective knowledge of the galactic Republic, and the Jedi Order. Our job right now, is to find out who our victim was. We will be picking apart his life, analyzing his contacts and friends, looking through his job history. We are looking for anyone with motive. We should tap any vid files on him around the time of his murder to get a canvas of the suspect. You are uniquely suited to this task because you are currently the only person to have seen him up close, even if you could only get a read on his build. I want you to rip apart his life, start to finish. I’m going to be working on finding out what these crystals are for.”



He paused for a moment and pulled out his datapad as it chimed with a new message. When he pulled it from his jacket he nodded. “Detective Joble just sent along confirmation. Victim’s name is Razimund Tesoud.”

Winter smiled and patted Rahebi on the shoulder encouragingly. “I’ll be right here if you need anything.”

And with that, Winter shucked his jacket and set it on the back of his chair, revealing the sleeveless gray shirt tucked into his pants. Then he sat back down at his own station right next to Rahebi. It was obvious that the man took care of himself, as denoted by the visible muscle on his arms. He needed to be able to take care of himself after all. Certain cases in the past had proven quite dangerous and very nearly, fatal.

[Muffinzky]

A rather dumbfounded Padawan starred at the place where Winter had placed his hand a couple of seconds ago. On her shoulder. She looked with shifting eyes from him to the room in front of her: Yes, she knew what was in the Archives… But that was the thing. It was a vast source of knowledge that could be found there. And that sometimes made it more difficult to search for specific things. The possibilities were many.

She had almost lived in the Archives for a year. For increasing periods of time. As a youngling it was a punishment, but it only whetted her appetite to learn more. And ignited sparks in her curiosity. Things she had wondered. Questions she had asked that no one could answer. She had always found answers and much more here. When she took initiative to study the Zelosian language, it was there. When she bled after a cut and discovered that her blood was green, she could find information there that no one would tell.

But looking up a person was different. This suspect was not a flower… Or animal. Or a chemical component that needed closer inspection for fun. This was a person, an individual with feelings, like when she watched people passing by on the street. And a part of her felt that she was snooping in things that was too personal… But for the greater good, she thought. Aaand… was it that much more different, except that she was observing his past and present through a phenomenal machine?

She decided that it didn’t matter, but it still tickled in her fingers, when she slid down in the closest chair and pulled it the last couple of steps with her legs to the screen.

We are now watching Mr. Razimund Tesoud in its natural environment, she thought to herself, as to make the process more recognizable to what she would do on her own.

The first result was articles. General information about stuff. What sector he belonged to. People he worked with.

Rahebi narrowed her eyes and chewed on her bottom lip as she skimmed the texts.
“He’s an assistant. He has worked under Senator Kalifax Lahearl for a period of 5 years… Age 37… How sad. That’s a bit young to leave this world. Looks like he had kids”.

She proceeded running her fingers across the screen, zooming on pictures and headlines where he appeared until she raised an eyebrow.
“His name appears on a list of old members from the Service Corps. So he was a drop out. This is getting interesting… Political mischief mayhapsss?”