It is a dark time for the New Republic.
There have been harsh economic downturns and struggles with trading. A shift has occurred towards a more feudal society with the Jedi as Lords and "benign dictators," holding the galaxy together in an orderly but fragile peace.
A growing separatist movement longs for the return of the Empire; the theory being that although they were subjugated, they did not starve. The movement has erupted into an armed conflict with the Neo-Imperialists waging a war against their perceived oppressors: the Jedi and the Republic…
Spirals swirled and lights arced in the sky above Coruscant. Fires bloomed then extinguished themselves in the vacuum. Contrails from missiles streaked in straight lines before erupting into crimson blossoms. One could almost smell the smoke.
Three figures stood apart from the others in the open plaza who gazed skyward and watched the mosaic of light unfold. Each one an alien, they conversed amongst themselves and kept their eyes on the battle that raged just beyond the atmosphere.
"And when shall we meet him?" the Bith asked.
"When this hurlyburly is done," the Iridonian replied. "When this battle is lost and won."
Above the lights and sparkles of the planet's metal surface, Jols Neren eased the stick back on his fighter. He then jerked it and sent the small craft into a sharp bank to starboard side. Never once did his forefinger let up from the trigger on the column. He could not afford it to. The stream of blaster fire from his fighter had to be endless, lest he succumb to the thick and cluttered melee. Already Neren could smell the sharp odor of smoke from a growing electrical fire. Soon his weapons would overheat. And where that would leave him would be anyone's guess.
With a deep breath he took control of his fear. Onward the Jedi pressed his starfighter, blasting Neo-Imperialist fighters and Seeker missiles. Never once did Neren imagine that a space battle could be so…congested. Not only did fighters of all kinds, Jedi craft, E-wings, R-wings, even old modified TIEs, buzz about like Bantha flies, spraying out fields of laser fire, but Neren found himself juking his fighter over and over again in order to duck and weave around the behemoth space cruisers and dreadnaughts of each side. If a blaster shot or a missile did not get him, a reckless collision into the hull of one of those leviathan ships would. The taste in his mouth went bitter.
An explosion just off his port side shook Neren back to the battle. The fighter wobbled from the shockwaves and then righted itself.
"Keep your head about you, my friend," a voice said through the comlink. "That one came up on you fast."
Geode Teriv. Jedi Knight and friend of Jols Neren. An especially good friend to have around at that time.
"We've got to knock that one out. It's killing us," Teriv said.
Neren looked ahead and saw a Neo cruiser. Indeed three Republic fighters winked out of existence in but a few seconds. Tiny splotches of orange flame dotted the juggernaut's side but a hail of laser fire still streaked out from it in almost every direction.
"Take out the nav-systems. I'm going for the bridge and the shield generator," Neren said.
With that he opened the fighter's throttle. At full speed he accelerated for the spaceship, targeting and destroying whatever hapless enemy fighter strayed into his path. Teriv's fighter streaked along side his. The distance closed, Teriv opened fire on the ship's spherical navigational sensor array, the very eyes of the vessel. After but a few hits of the dotted light, the nav-systems exploded into a ball of fire. The massive ship shuddered.
At the same time, Neren weaved his fighter through the flotsam and brought himself impossibly close to the bridge. It was the only way to assure a deadly accurate shot. Before his fighter closed the gap, it rocked and shook. Lights flashed and blinked all over his systems read out.
"I'm hit," Neren said as more of a declaration than an alarm.
"Get out of that dive!" Teriv barked through the comm-link.
Neren's response was to bank his fighter into a roll and send it head-on into the fury of laser cannons.
"Neren!" exclaimed Teriv once more.
With The Force strong in his pilot's hands, Neren weaved and dodged between the blasts. Swooping in alongside the bridge structure, he let loose with the cannons of his fighter. White light fire trailed in his wake as the bridge detonated.
"Gods!" Teriv called out. "How did you do that?"
"Oh it wasn't that much of a chore, now was it?" Neren could not help the grin that curled just at the very of his lips.
The cigar-shaped spaceship lurched. In a fluid but limp movement, it dipped down and began a rapid descent for the surface of the planet.
"Come on!" was all Neren said to his wingman. "After it!"
Together they flanked the vessel and accompanied it in its dive to Coruscant. After dropping through the artificial atmosphere, the friction-heated ship crashed into a series of silver buildings and slid to a halt. Fires burned from the impact.
Two fighters landed off to the side of the wreckage. Neren and Teriv popped out of the cockpits even before the canopies could retract completely. Their brown Jedi robes billowed behind them as their lightsabers ignited into blue shafts of light. Both Jedi ran over to the side of the wrecked cruiser. Neren stretched out his hand to a section of the hull. The metal began to buckle then snap. A rectangular segment was torn off and sent through the air by the power of The Force.
A series of battledroids spilled out of the tear in the hull. In automated perfection they fired their blasters to repel the boarders. The Jedi twirled their lightsabers and deflected the bolts, then hacked the robots to pieces. The opposition removed, the Jedi jumped into the ruined ship through the jagged tear. Neren led the way.
They ran through the metal corridors of the Neo-Imperialist ship. Not such an easy feat given the slanted decks and the fallen wreckage. Not easy for anyone save Jedi Knights fully trained in the ways of The Force. For them, such obstacles are easily remedied.
"There couldn't be that many survivors," Teriv said as he stroked his beard.
"Stretch out with your feelings. You'll see," Neren said as he peered around a corner. "This way."
In time they arrived in what was once the subsidiary reactor of the ship and Teriv saw what Neren meant. A hail of blaster fire greeted them. Positioned in hiding amongst the pipes, fallen bulkheads, and mechanical guts of the ship, gunmen fought with ferocity to protect their ship. Though what could be left to protect mystified Teriv.
A blast took out an electronics panel and showered Teriv with sparks and shrapnel. He uttered a muffled cry of pain and then leaped from the area. By then Neren had waded into the midst of the Neos. It was a short, one-sided, and rather pathetic fight from there. Neren's speed, strength, and unparalleled skill with a lightsaber resulted in a heap of sliced and slashed combatants. The smell of ozone hung heavy in the air with each swipe. When none were left, Neren shuffled his feet, looked around, and furrowed his brow.
"What is it?" Teriv asked.
Neren's head jerked to his right. His eyes locked on a metal cargo container and he reached out with his hand as if to touch it. The metal panel that faced Neren was Force pulled and the cargo container opened. A robed Bothan crawled out and raised his hands in a defensive posture. His body shook and he swallowed hard.
Teriv recognized him. Paume Seau, one of the leaders of the Neo-Imperialists.
Outside the crashed ship, Neren turned his prisoner over to compatriot Jedi. A veil of rain fell over the scene, much to the boon of the firefighters that struggled to contain the blaze that ensued from the wreck.
"I didn't know it was scheduled to rain today," Teriv said as he brought his hood up over his head. "It always leaves a metallic taste in my mouth.
By enlarge Coruscant's surface was covered entirely by city sprawl. Polar ice and seas were long since drawn underground and dispersed through an elaborate network of pipes to the planet's trillion or so inhabitants. From time to time, water vapor would be released into the artificial atmosphere as a refreshing mechanism. That water would return to ground as rain. Neren stood in such a rain and looked out over the remains of the ship under ashen gray skies.
"Quite a day," he mused.
"At least we beat the Neos back," Teriv said.
"Yes. Then a day both foul and fair," Neren remarked.
As they walked further from the crash site, three hooded figures approached.
"Hail Jols Neren, Jedi Knight!" the Iridonian said as rainwater dripped from his horns.
"Hail Jedi Master!" the Bith said, his fleshy and bulbous head sheltered by a hood.
"Hail ruler hereafter!" the orange-eyed Duro said.
The two Jedi were speechless. Both stood frozen as they gazed at the strange aliens.
"Who are they?" Teriv asked in an aside to Neren.
"I don't know," Neren replied in a soft tone. His eyes remained on the three. "But The Force is strong with them."
Exhales came from both Neren and Teriv as they calmed themselves. The three strangers neither spoke nor moved. They simply continued to gaze at the Jedi in a knowing manner, almost as if they could see through them and into what might lie ahead.
"Are we…hallucinating? From drink?" Teriv postulated.
"We're Jedi," Neren reminded. "We don't drink."
"Oh. Right."
"What do you mean by the things you've called me?" Neren asked the three.
The Iridonian smiled and revealed a mouthful of jagged and yellow teeth. From out of the excessive sleeve of his cloak came a metal sphere. It rose aloft on a crackle of blue energy exuded by the Iridonian's open palm of scarlet flesh.
"Look to the orb for your warning," he said to Neren.
The device whirred and clicked before projecting a holographic image of light blue. The pixilated depiction was of Neren, upon the center seat among the Jedi Council. Neren studied the image. His pupils dilated. His hand went to his bearded chin. Teriv came up behind Neren and placed a hand on his shoulder to peer past him.
"Are you…are you saying this is my future?" Neren asked the three, bewildered.
There was no reply.
"Speak, strangers," Neren insisted.
"Yes," Teriv concurred. "And if that be true for Neren, tell me what becomes of me?"
"You will be lesser than Neren," the Bith stated. "But greater."
"You will not be so happy as Neren," the Duro then said. "But in the end, much happier."
After such things were said, the three turned and walked away from the two Jedi, leaving only the flaps of their robes sounding on the wind. Neren and Teriv watched them cross the crowded street and fade away amongst the throngs of pedestrians and the dense city buildings. Neren's heart raced and his head swam.
On the video monitor in her apartment, Debca Neren saw the news of the Neos' defeat and how her husband helped to save the day. With a sharp jab of her finger she deactivated the vidcomm screen. Lady Neren strode away from the console and stood to look out the window at the rainy skyline of Coruscant. She wore her husband's favorite gown, the Nabooan one of gold and intricate latticework while her dark brown hair sat in coiled rolls on her temples with errant strands that casGantzd to her bare shoulders in curls. Again and again she fondled the black leather glove in her hands. Despite its age and the ungodly times it saw, the garment was still soft and supple.
"It's all right there for us," Debca said to no one in particular. "But he just doesn't have the stomach for the cure. Too full of the milk of human kindness."
Thought consumed her. In her head Debca angled, plotted, analyzed, and calculated. No matter the procedure, the instigator of her desired outcome was always the same.
"Jols," she whispered.
The Neren's shared the home ever since the Jedi Council lifted the ban on marriage. It was decorated with art from all over the galaxy. Paintings, sculptures, vases, and rugs…each one hand selected by Debca. She knew what she looked for, she knew what she wanted, and never did she purchase anything but the very best. "There is beauty in commodity," she once told her husband. Debca's fist met the back of the couch with vigor.
"If The Force would switch our places I would do it myself. But alas…" her speech drifted off. "He doesn't know the power of it all."
The front door slid open and her husband walked in, still wet from the rain. Without hesitation, Debca came to Jols and pressed her body to him.
"My Jedi prince," she said then kissed him. "I heard it was quite a day for you."
"I am to be a Jedi Master," Jols told her.
"I know," she replied with little warmth.
Debca began to remove his wet outer garments. Jols waited, as if expecting more to flow from her mouth. It did not.
"Isn't that a good thing?" he asked his wife.
"Nothing will change," Debca said.
She took his robes into the bedroom. Jols Neren followed and found her hanging the Jedi garments to dry. He stood there, his shoulders relaxed and his fingers interlaced before him, and waited for his spouse to turn and face him.
"I don't believe that anything will change," Debca repeated. "I mean, it defies all reason to think that it would. How often do you speak of your frustrations? Of watching suffering in the galaxy while the politicians and the bureaucrats of the Senate argue? And ultimately do nothing?"
Head dipped low, Jols went to his dresser and began the process of changing into his bedclothes.
"Such is the way of things," he told her.
"And what if it didn't have to be?" Debca asked. "What if you had more power, more control over what you saw?"
"Jedi crave not those things," Jols replied.
"Yet if the Jedi do seek truth, beauty, and above all…justice, should not a Jedi be willing to make such things come about? Even if it meant doing so through strident means?"
Jols said nothing, only fixed his wife with a level gaze. She in turn scratched her head and began to pace.
"If you were seated high on the Jedi Council…" she said with a sharp exhale.
"It is not my time…"
"Make it your time."
"How?"
"By strident measures," Debca said. "That ultimately would be justified in the end."
A heavy silence hung in the air. The temperature seemed to dip and Jols Neren's flesh rose.
"What are you proposing?" he asked.
Once more she left his presence. Once more he followed. They both ended up by a table adjacent to the edge of the couch. From that table Debca took the black glove.
"Do you know what this is?" she asked her husband. "What do you sense from it?"
With hesitation, Jols reached out for the leather item. His fingertips touched it, and then they recoiled.
"I feel anger…hatred," he said, hushed. "More than that. Guilt…sorrow."
"Do you not also feel great power? Accomplishment?" Debca proposed.
"Yes," Jols said after a time.
His gaze never left the glove as his hand hovered just above it.
"It was worn by the great-grandfather of Gantz Skywalker…by the father of Luke Skywalker," she explained.
Jols' attention snapped away from the glove. He stepped away and glared at Debca.
"You mean Darth Vader," he came close to spitting the words. "Where did you get this?"
"Art connoisseurs and purveyors of antiquities often cross paths," was all that she said.
It took time, but Jols recomposed himself. Once more his breath was calm and his face was expressionless.
"He was more machine than man," he asserted. "Twisted and evil."
"Look at history," Debca scolded. "Despite what has been attributed to him, Vader led great armies with the mission of unifying the galaxy into a cohesive whole."
"Yes," Jols conceded. "Like a herd of bantha led to slaughter."
"There would have been no crime, no want, no need…" Debca argued.
"And no freedom," Jols countered.
"Why do you think the Neo Imperialists have arisen?" she asked, like a tutor to a dull pupil. "They want an end to the suffering and uncertainty, the suffering and the uncertainty that the Republican Senate refuses to deal with and the feudal Jedi are forbidden to act on because their damnable dogma is in the way."
Debca moved to her husband and took him in her arms.
"It is the Jedi who are the bantha following in herd, my sweet," she told him. "And Bantha get slaughtered."
"And just how…do you propose I ascend to the Jedi Council?" Jols asked with trepidation.
"By appearing as a flower. While truly being the serpent underneath," Debca said and brought her head nestled into her husband's chest, just beneath his chin. "Cut off the head and the body will die."
As he held her, Jols looked away to the window, then back to the glove in her hands. Thoughts flooded through his brain. Thoughts of the aliens he had encountered just hours earlier and their uncanny premonitions.
"What you ask…is…" he started.
"Leave all to me," Debca soothed.
A Tantive spaceship eased into orbit around Tatooine. From there, a shuttlepod was launched with Gantz Skywalker of the Jedi Council on board. With him he brought his two sons, Obi Wan and Mace Windu Skywalker, each a Jedi in their own right. The pod swooped in on the stronghold of Jols Neren. From above, the sand-colored structure seemed to blend in with the desert. Only Neren's lawn, green from chemical fertilizer and moisture vaporators, distinguished it. On this green lounged Neren's pet: a gray skinned dragon curled with all placidity in the back of the property. It was rumored that Neren chose to make his home on the desert planet for its strong place in the history of the Jedi Order, despite being remote and barren.
An invitation had gone forth from Lady Neren to all of the Jedi Order for a celebration in honor of her husband made Jedi Master. Many accepted and found themselves on Tatooine, greeted at Neren's door by two droids: an astromech and a golden protocol unit.
"Hello! I am C-3PO, human-cyborg relations," the tall one said. "And this is my counterpart, R2-D2. We welcome you to the House of Neren."
R2-D2 chirped, whirred, and chortled, then turned and rolled on, leading the guests to the celebration within.
The banquet hall was expansive and furnished with fine ornaments. Windows, tall and pinpoint slender, were cut into the high walls of the chamber. They allowed light from the setting binary suns of Tatooine to illuminate the hall in bloody hues. Lady Neren glided about and greeted with cordiality all who attended. The always-jovial Geode Terriv conversed with the Skywalkers. A Sullustan served drinks. A Jedi tasted the sweet yet sour nectar of the altium juice in his glass while he inspected a crystalline vase that went from a flat bottom to a graduated blossom at its apex. It was complex in its design and costly in its material composition
"Odd for a Jedi to have such a home," the Jedi, a Knight named Chrhe Dumun commented to the Nautolan at his side.
"Lady Neren has always coveted luxurious artwork," the Nautolan said and added a shrug.
The banquet began. Neren stood and welcomed all guests once more. Before proceeding any further, he called upon all assembled to pay tribute to those lost during the battle over Coruscant.
"Hail the honored dead," Neren proclaimed and gave a toast.
Gantz Skywalker was next to stand and speak. He thanked the Nerens and praised Jols for his service as an exceptional Jedi.
"Few in our recorded annals have had such prowess coupled with such valor and a strong sense of right from wrong," Skywalker said. "I have seen great things from him as a Jedi Knight…and I have no doubt I shall see even greater things from him as a Jedi Master."
In response, Neren gave a polite smile then averted his eyes. He followed that with a deep drink of water.
The final diner to address the long table was Lord Lando Calrissian. The consistent portrait of elegance and suave class, Calrissian smiled and bright white teeth contrasted with his smooth, ebon skin. In truth, he was far older than he appeared, a benefit he owed to an age retarding drug formulated from a weed that grew only on the forest moon of Endor. A man like Calrissian possessed the…connections one needed to procure such a treatment.
"Members of the Jedi Order," Lord Lando began. "It is with great thanks that I come before you today. Thanks on behalf of the guilds, the traders, and the businessmen of the galaxy. Beings such as myself who work to benefit all citizens of all planets in all systems. It is because of you and your steadfast dedication to our safety, to order in our society, and to the preservation of peace across the galaxy that we are free to operate and continue to work to improve people's lives. For this, no amount of gratitude is sufficient."
Minstrels performed and a fine, Dionysian meal was enjoyed by all.
"If this must be done, let it be done quickly," Neren said in his bedchambers later that night.
The dark fell fast upon Tatooine, faster than usual it seemed to him. In fact, everything in the house took on a pallor of black, of expulsion into a void somewhere between two worlds. One he was leaving more with each passing moment yet yearned in silence to remain in. Another laden with the promise of all he desired yet should never visit in the first place. Neren lit a stick of incense. The room smelled of spice and perfume. In the dark he meditated, collected and composed his mind in an attempt to bring some kind of order and balance to his feelings through the power of The Force.
Then Lady Neren entered the dark.
"Gantz Skywalker sleeps," she whispered.
"We will proceed no further in this business," Neren told her.
The woman stood and looked at him. She drew deep breath and shut her eyes for a moment. When Debca opened them upon exhalation, her jaw went tight.
"I'm tired of nothing ever changing," she said evenly. "I want more. I thought we both did."
"What if we fail?" Jols asked.
"Screw your courage to your person and make it stick," his wife urged. "When you do this, it will be so that untold wrongs may be righted through your hands."
Jols considered this for a moment.
"And what of his sons? They won't just let this kind of thing go," he said.
"I've already accounted for them," Debca said. "I'm willing to wager they will think discretion the better part of valor. This must be done."
A brown cloth satchel was at the foot of their bed, lumpy and plopped lifeless against the furniture. In the spice-scented dark, Debca lifted the bag, undid the drawstrings and let its contents spill forth. She handed her husband a mask of solid and featureless obsidian as well as a lightsaber that was not his own.
With light and apprehensive steps, Neren took each stair. He crept and he skulked, moving with his body as close to the wall as he could manage while granting the air only the faintest of sounds. The landing ahead of him, a flat floor bathed in blue safety light, marked a point that signaled the final few meters before Gantz Skywalkers guest room. Nights on Tatooine were cold, as the desert floor possessed no features to retain the blistering heat of the day. This night however, seemed colder even than that to Neren, as if icicles might form on the surface of his skin at any given moment.
Am I really doing this? he thought as he wiped sweat from his brow. Is this really a lightsaber in my hand? It is not at all like mine…therefore it must be an illusion in my own brain, brought on by an oppressive fever. Yes. It is that and nothing more.
Just outside of the door, Neren paused. He lowered his heard, certain that ice was forming on the tips of his fingers. Then, like a man about to jump into waters he knew to be of a bitter chill, he donned the mask and made entry into the chamber via a push of The Force. Neren ignited the lightsaber. He found the blade was red.
Shockwaves spread out. Jedi across the galaxy felt a great disturbance in The Force. A muffled cry, one that was nanoseconds in length and perceptible to only the most sensitive ears echoed throughout the House of Neren. Jedi Knights ripped from slumber cased the building and in time came upon the intruder. His face was concealed by a black mask and in his hand he wielded a lightsaber of The Sith.
Republic troopers fired their blasters at him to no avail. The masked Neren dodged each shot with great ease and agility. Blasts he did not evade were deflected with adept thrusts of the lightsaber blade. Two Jedi then took over the assault. Again and again the blades twirled and clashed. Swing after swing, blow after blow, the masked Neren managed to block his attackers. The Jedi knew not how one could be so powerful. Neren knew not how long he could keep up a defense against the two of them.
After a quick slash and a parry, Neren kicked one of the Jedi square in the chest. The brown-cloaked man fell back and thus Neren was able to spin and devote a full slice of his blade to the companion. After the swipe, that Jedi's head fell from his shoulders and rolled to the floor. His friend shouted out a cry of "no!" Neren leaped a tremendous distance towards a window and flung himself from it. The remaining Jedi followed suit.
Outside they resumed their duel. Blades cutting, slashing, hacking, sizzling with contact. Through the green grass they fought, under a dim morning sky with the moons of Tatooine scarcely gone. From time to time their blades would lock and the two of them would struggle in a push and tug of raw strength. The young Jedi was good, but in the end no match for the newest Jedi Master, Jols Neren. Neren sliced the young man's sword holding hand away and then ended his life with a deep cut across him, mid torso.
Neren took cover in the rocky outcroppings of the desert that overlooked his Tatooine home. His chest heaving for breath, he collapsed into the sand and ripped the mask from his face. Something else settled into him, thick like a syrup dripping through the cracks and crevices in his psyche. He then deactivated the lightsaber and took a long look at his hands.
"All the oceans of Kamino could never wash this blood clean from my hands," he said aloud to the appendages.
A medical droid was summoned with all due urgency to the guest room of Gantz Skywalker, but to no avail. The Jedi Master had long since evaporated and become one with The Force. Another droid used microscope sensors to detect whatever trace evidence might have been left behind by the murderer and if any forced entry was evident to the manor. R2-D2 interfaced with the manor's security video. After a session far briefer than it should have been, R2-D2 returned from the instrument panel and chirped the results to his counterpart.
"Artoo says that the security systems were taken offline sometime during the night," Threepio told the assembled crowd.
Neren arrived at that point. His clothes were disheveled and his face was as ashen as his pet's. He inquired as to what occurred and Threepio responded.
"Oh Master Jols, Master Skywalker has been killed!" Threepio said with despondency in his electronic voice. "Two Jedi Knights who pursued the assassin have been slain as well!"
For a few steps, Neren stumbled. He seemed uncertain of where to go to next as he pursed his lips and sent a hand through his hair.
"How?" he asked aloud. "How could this happen in my house? No one but Debca or I could turn off the security system. How…?"
Before Neren could finish his thought, Debca gasped and dropped to the floor in crumpled heap.
"Lady Neren!" Dumun shouted and went to the fallen woman.
While Dumun called for the medical droid, the brothers Skywalker took counsel with one another in a secluded part of the house.
"I have a bad feeling about this," Obi-Wan told his brother in the morning half light of the alcove.
"Our father's dead," Mace Windu told his sibling. "I would hope so."
"I sense great deception here," Obi-Wan said. "The Dark Side of The Force clouds all. The only logical reason to kill father would be to take control of or to otherwise subvert The Jedi Order. And that would mean that you and I could very well be next."
This caused Mace Windu to pace. After a period of silence, he came to a conclusion.
"We must go into exile. I will head for Dagobah. You?" Mace asked.
"Kashyyyk," his brother replied as if deep in thought. "Yes, I believe I will go to Kashyyyk."
A solemn ceremony was held for Master Gantz Skywalker in the Jedi Temple on Coruscant. A brazier burned and smoke wafted to the ceiling. The smell of gekko clove incense filled the chamber while all assembled sat in meditation. In the true Jedi Way, Gantz Skywalker was not mourned. Instead he was let go into the ether where he would shed his crude outer form and become his true luminous self in The Force. Still, the occasion needed to be marked and it was Jols Neren who elected to speak.
"Nothing in Gantz Skywalker's life became like the leaving of it," Neren said to the funeral congregation. "But it is not ours to ponder on fairness. Fair or not, it was what transpired. But we will move forward with the preservation of what he valued most: truth, beauty, peace, and justice. Let is remember that there is no death there is only The Force. Jedi Master Gantz Skywalker is now one with The Force. And after life's fitful fever, he lives again."
The service concluded and the attendees began to disperse. Dumun and Teriv found Neren by the vault-like door to the hall. Dumun explained that in wake of Gantz's death and the sudden disappearance and abdication of the Skywalker sons, it was decided that Neren should head the Council.
"Not the happiest of tidings for such an appointment, but I accept," Neren said.
Dumun and Neren exchanged handshakes and then Dumun was off. A man in a blue uniform and hair somewhere between blonde and pink took his place.
"Excuse me," he said and flashed an identicard. "Soncro Camia. SecruiLaw. I need to ask you a few questions about what happened."
Neren looked the law officer over and gave him little regard.
"This is Jedi business," Neren folded his arms and told him. "An internal matter."
"And since you keep your dainty damn temple here on Coruscant, I figured you want to work with me, let me feed whatever information you have through our criminal database, find suspects," Soncro Camia said through his teeth. "Just in case the murderer is on the loose here somewhere, maybe looking to kill another Jedi…maybe you."
"The Jedi are the keepers of law and order in the Republic," Neren hissed, his hands on his hips now. "We will have no need of you."
A slight scoff escaped Camia's mouth while he gave the Jedi Master an expression that was equal parts smile and sneer. The detective then turned around and left. When Neren looked away from him, he found his gaze met by Teriv.
"Yes, all falling together for you, isn't it?" Teriv asked Neren. "Just like those three we encountered said it would."
"I think that has little to do with it," Neren replied.
Both Jedi began to walk together through the corridor. Neren kept his head turned from Teriv and gazed out the bay windows to the skyscrapers that reached into clouds and the dense air traffic of the artificial world outside.
"Maybe," Teriv remarked, his eyes slanted at Neren. "All just coincidence I'm certain."
That said, Teriv broke away and headed into a turbo lift. Neren watched the doors slide shut and found he could walk away, but with difficulty.
"I'm just saying it's damned peculiar," Soncro Camia said through the vidphone.
Chrhe Dumun stood on the other end of the video communication device, leaning on the console. He did not like what he heard.
"Neren acted very evasive with me. Stubborn as a Gundark, refused to cooperate," Camia said.
"This is a Jedi matter," Dumun said in response.
"The crime happened at Neren's home," Camia began to rattle off." No sign of forced entry from what I've heard. No clear motive. And the murderer had a lightsaber. Now Neren acts suspicious. Look, it's nothing I can prove. Just wanted to put it out there for you. If you're interested, I've got an old Imperial interrogation droid. Could get anything out of anyone."
"I don't believe that will be necessary, Detective," Dumun said and tabled the matter.
"And if you don't mind, I'm going to put a tail on him," the Detective stated.
There was a long pause before either party said or did anything.
"Do what you will," Dumun said and then terminated the communication link.
He swiveled about and leaned on the console while his mind went into overdrive. Facts, suspicions, and insidious possibilities sorted to and fro like partygoers in his head, all pondering the same mystery.
Could it have been…? Dumun wondered.
A light blue glow shimmered into form just to Dumun's left. The Jedi Knight snapped his head towards it in time to see a ghostly human form manifest itself.
"Master Skywalker?" an astonished Dumun said to the Force apparition of the departed Gantz Skywalker.
The vision flickered and glimmered while Dumun's jaw fell slack. The air smelled of ozone and the hair of his arm stood on end. Skywalker seemed to struggle, to mouth words that just would not come out. Dumun strained his ears and leaned closer. One then dropped into the air from the Beyond.
"Neren…"