Chapter II- Scene of the Crime

The Jedi pair made their way down the elegant streets of Crevasse City. Alderaan was a very beautiful and naturalized world- the overtones of nature in Crevasse City indicated that. Sweeping grasslands and gentle prairies dominated much of the moonless planet's surface. The people of Alderaan had struck a near perfect harmony between nature and technology. The buildings and design of Crevasse City complemented its surroundings in harmonious beauty.

Lana and Alan observed their surroundings in wonderment and silence. After being on worlds such as Coruscant, it was hard to fathom such beauty. The artisans of Alderaan were truly the finest in the galaxy.

"Master Jedi?" A short, stout man approached the two Jedi as they had been walking.

"Neither of us are masters yet." Alan answered.

"I take it that you are knights then? Well, I am Pedro Starfill. I am a member of the local police force, here to greet you and welcome you to Alderaan."

"Alan Dawnstrider." Alan reached out and shook his hand.

"Lana Rakalla." Lana did the same.

"I take it you must be tired after your trip-"

"No, Pedro, not at all." Alan answered.

"Well I'd take you down to the station, but it's practically abandoned. Everyone is at the crime scene, trying to assemble and pick apart the clues." Pedro replied. "When we got the message from the Jedi council that they were sending two Jedi to investigate, we tried to hold off on beginning the investigation. We wanted to wait until you got here to start."

"Well, we're here now." Lana replied. "Take us to the scene of the crime."

* * *

"Well, as you can see, six members of senator Organa's staff were up here late last night, obviously doing research, when assassins broke into the building and murdered all of them." An investigating officer explained.

"How did the assassins bypass security?" Lana asked.

"There must have been a massive security failure. At least that's what the downstairs guard said." The officer answered. "He said that security had been going crazy all day yesterday, and the maintenance crews couldn't quite figure out what was wrong with it."

"Lana, look at this." Alan called her over as he pointed out several blast points that littered the office walls and floors. "These blast points were apparently created by a type of heavy blaster."

"Our forensic teams will note that." The Pedro said.

"Yes, but its much more powerful than your average heavy blaster. I've seen this before." Alan continued to analyze the blast. "I'm pretty sure that this belongs to a Mandalorian heavy pistol."

"Mandalorian? That's impossible. The Mandalorians are extinct."

"But their weapons are not." Alan answered. "There are a few companies who have successfully reproduced the Mandalorian arsenal. These weapons are strictly superior to most republic or commercial versions, though they are sold for a much higher price."

"Those types of heavy weapons are outlawed here on Alderaan. Only the police are allowed to carry such weapons, and there are laws which prevent them from being imported here or sold."

"So our assassins are obviously off-worlders, and they are professionals." Lana noted. "The motive strikes me as odd. I doubt that this is politically motivated, as these people are not limelight speakers. They do not help write the senator's speeches, nor are they his subordinate representatives. All they do for senator Organa is research... Wait, that's it. The motive- theft."

"Theft?" The investigating officer frowned.

"Theft of information." Alan answered as Lana's reasoning became clear to him.

"Send for a droid. I want the computers to be checked for tampering." Lana ordered. "I want to know if anyone has deleted or downloaded any information from these computers in the last twenty-four hours."

* * *

"It appears your theory was correct, Jedi." Pedro said as he reviewed the report compiled by an astromech droid. "Our forensic investigators have given us a timeframe for the killings, and these computers were tampered with during that timeframe. Somebody downloaded several files into personal datapad before deleting those files from the computer memory."

"Perhaps it was sensitive information that could be used to blackmail the senator." Alan theorized.

"Maybe, but that still does not explain the killings. If all they wanted was to steal the information, they could have just broken in when nobody was around." Lana replied. "I think that this information stolen was sensitive information to the killers, and that they killed the researchers to eliminate all knowledge of such information."

"That's a real possibility." Pedro stated. "I still think that the people responsible for this act are professionals: mercenaries, assassins, or bounty hunters. I don't think your average radical is capable of this."

"Yes but perhaps these professionals were hired by a radical group."

"Are you referring to the separatists?"

"They are a possibility, Pedro, but this is all speculation right now." Lana paused. "All we know is that six people were killed and information was stolen from senator Organa's offices."

* * *

The two Jedi were once again on the streets of Crevasse City, making their way towards the hotel where they would be staying.

"What do you think, Lana?"

"I don't know. I have a suspicion that this is all linked to the separatists, however."

"I agree. It's entirely possible that senator Organa's researchers here uncovered something... dangerous. Something that could prove the separatist's treachery and these mercenaries cleared them out before they could breathe a word."

Lana nodded. She drew close to Alan and whispered into his ear, "There's a man, about fifteen feet behind you, wearing gray suit and a hat." Alan did not turn around to look at the man, but stretched out with his Jedi senses to get a feel for him. He nodded. "That man's been following us ever since we arrived here. I suspect he may know something."

Alan nodded. He felt the power coiling into his legs as he gathered the force to augment his already great physical ability. He concentrated, and in an instant, he leapt many feet into the air, performing a sensational and what most would deem, impossible, back flip. Alan landed a few feet away from the man who had been following them, a single blue blade from his saber lit. Lana drew her own saber and ran towards him. The man bolted.

The hat-wearing man bolted through the streets, trying to get away from the two Jedi on his tail. Alan hastened, using his superior physical conditioning to try and catch the man, but he was too far ahead. Lana lagged behind. The man darted off the main street and into a market alley. Amidst the exchange of goods and credits, the three created havoc everywhere they went.

The man tried to hamper his Jedi pursuers by pushing food stands and other objects in their way, but Alan simply leapt over these obstacles or sliced through them with his lightsaber. Out of options, the desperate man finally reached for his weapon and fired. A torrent of screams erupted from the alley market as people scattered, hearing the blaster fire. Alan easily deflected the bolts into walls.

Tiring of this pursuit, Alan reached out with the force and tripped the runner. He tripped and fell face down, but he quickly jumped to his feet and unleashed a volley of blaster fire upon Alan. Alan did not break a single stride deflecting away the blaster fire. Alan then delivered a hard, incapacitating kick to the man's face, followed by several more blows that left him unconscious on the ground.

"Calm down, calm down!" Lana ordered to the mob of panicked marketers and consumers. Many of them did after seeing that the Jedi had triumphed in defeating the shooter. "Get back to your business. This is a Jedi affair."

"I think we might have caught one of our assassins." Alan said to Lana as he showed her the man's weapon- an X-type Mandalorian heavy pistol.

* An hour later *

The man slowly came to consciousness. He had a bad headache and several bruises littered across his body. His awareness slowly dawned upon him, and he realized that he was sitting at a table inside an interrogation room, and the two Jedi whom he had been sent to monitor were with him. The male Jedi sat at the opposite side of the table, and the woman was standing near the door.

"Who- who are you?"

"You don't have to ask that question. You already know my name, don't you?" Alan replied.

"Alan Dawnstrider." He paused. "And the beautiful woman standing in the corner is Lana Rakalla."

"We tried interrogating you earlier, with the use of truth serums, but you've obviously been trained to resist that." Alan said. "Come to think of it, that's the only true thing you've said all day." Alan shot a passing glance at Lana. She smiled modestly.

"What do you want?"

"I ask the questions here," Alan said. "Mister Grease Pulpit."

The man's facial expression twisted as Alan said his real name.

"Ok, now that we all know each other by name, why don't we just get on with it?" Alan motioned to the blaster that was lying on the table. "Do you recognize that weapon?"

Grease said nothing.

"Of course you do." Alan picked it up and showed it to him. "This is a Mandalorian X-type heavy pistol. You used it to try to kill me."

Grease said nothing.

"You also used it to murder six of senator Organa's staff, didn't you, you scum?" Alan spat the words out with such hatred. They attracted Lana's concerned expression. There was a long paused in the interrogation. After a few minutes, Alan picked up where he had left off. "You know, this is a very, very powerful pistol. The Mandalorians used to brag that they could destroy a starship with one from one of these."

Still, Grease was silent.

"Tell me who you work for, who put you up to this, and who killed senator Organa's staff."

"Do you think your blaster talk scares me? What are you going to do if I don't tell you?" Grease replied with his rogue outer-rim accent. "You Jedi have rules. You can't hurt me or torture me."

Alan grinned evilly. "Is that what you think?"

Grease nodded, with a look of bravery and pride etched upon his face.

Alan then rose from his chair. With a flash of anger, he punched Grease in the face, then grabbed him by the throat and lifted him into the air. "Do you still think I won't hurt you?" Alan roared. "Tell me why you were watching us, and who put you up to it. Now!"

"Alan! What's wrong with you?! Are you insane?" Lana pulsed. "You can't do that!"

"We need this information, Lana."

"We're Jedi! We don't handle our prisoners like that."

"Just shut up, Lana!" Alan roared back angrily. "I'm trying to solve this case, dammit! We need this information."

Lana shook her head disapprovingly. "Such anger leads to the dark side, Alan."

Grease's bravery was now replaced with terror as Alan threw him into the wall. "I'm not even going to give you the honor of a clean death." He said as he turned down the power on the pistol. He then pressed the weapon against Grease's head. "Tell me who you work for or I will splatter your brains all over the wall!"

"Alan, STOP IT!" Lana screamed. "Get out! Now! I'll deal with you later. Just get out!"

"You want to deal with him? Fine!" Alan roared back. "Call me when you want to get something done."

Alan stormed out of the room, leaving his terrorized victim scrunched up in the corner on the floor. Lana sighed and approached him.

"Listen to me. I can help you."

"How? You've already found me guilty."

"Listen, just tell me who you work for, and I'll get the police to give you a lighter punishment. You have to trust me. If you don't, chances are that you're going to get life or maybe even execution."

"The Jedi don't execute their prisoners."

"But the courts do. How does five years and a new identity sound as opposed to that? Good?"

Grease nodded weakly. Lana had him on the edge. Just a little bit of force persuasion would probably get him over.

"Just tell me, you can trust me."

Grease sighed. "A little over three months ago, I joined an assassin clan called Trax'mar-Chil. We got a job here on Alderaan."

"What was the job?"

"It was not exactly the work of an assassin, but we were paid well, so we did it anyway."

"What was it?"

"It was the work of a terrorist. All I know is that we were hired to bomb some building here on Alderaan."

"Do you know which building they're planning to bomb?"

"No. I don't know. The clan master hasn't revealed that to me, yet. But I'm sure it's big. We were gathering a lot of explosives."

"Who hired you, then?"

"I don't know. I'm still a pretty low-ranking member; I don't deal with our clients. I just do what the clan master tells me. We have fifteen members and a near flawless resume."

"How does this tie into senator Organa's people?"

"They knew something; they obtained some information that endangered our mission and our clients. That's why we had to deal with them."

"Can you tell me where Trax'mar-chil is hiding out?"

Grease picked up the piece of paper lying on the table and wrote down an address. "Ok, I've told you everything you wanted to know, sister. Can I go?"

"The local police will take you some place safe, don't worry. You'll be taken off this rock and to safety. You won't have to worry about anything." Lana paused to analyze the broken expression on Grease's face. "You've done a good thing. You may have saved the lives of thousands of people."

Lana stepped out of the room, the paper securely in hand.

"It worked?" Alan asked as she emerged from the room.

"Of course it did." She replied with a smirk. Lana handed him the piece of paper. "Good cop/bad cop never fails."