Blind Faith

32 BBY

Coruscant

They always said the Jedi were the best of us.

You don't have to live in this city for long to realize that just means they were the first.

My time on the force had taught me a lot of things, made me see the worst in a lot of people. Nothing was as criminal as the spin job those crooks had pulled on the public, though. 'The Jedi Temple has stood for a thousand generations', they'd always tell you. 'A beacon of hope in a teeming hotbed of corruption'.

Then you start to realize there's only so much of that Temple's beacon that's ever truly been open to the public. As a cop I never cared much to take the full tour. It was a side show more than anything. A glossed up advertisement. Sure, they'd walk you through the meditation chambers, herd you like banthas through a dozen rooms with a thousand fountains. Let you see the Jedi the way all the Holofilms do. The monk-like figures who have total control over their vices.

I've known the Jedi to be a lot of things in my time on the force. Calling them 'monks' has always been a bit of a stretch.

You don't ask monks to fight wars for you. You sure as hell don't let them wander the streets carrying around high-grade plasma weapons.

Mercenaries was a more apt description for people like that. Problem was, these were the kinds of mercenaries that were sanctioned by the government, given full autonomy to operate as they saw fit.

I knew better than to voice my concerns with any of my higher-ups down at the station, of course. There was no use. The Jedi had their purview of operations, and we had ours.

That arrangement worked for awhile. Right up until they started assuming what was ours was theirs. A police investigation was a Jedi's investigation. Always, unquestioned. There was no clearance, there was no rulebook. If a Jedi asked you to hand over the keys to an operation you did what you were told. Their judgement was too clear for us to argue with, their senses too attuned.

I always wondered what it would take for people to see the flaw in that line of thinking. When we'd start to see the cracks and their facade would come crumbling down. When the religious zealots would take a step too far over the line and show everyone their true colors.

I guess you could say the real surprise was that it didn't take much at all.

. . .

The trouble started when we got a call on one of our late-night perimeter checks. Something about a kidnapping that had happened at one of the local orphanages.

An orphanage.

"They do realize they could've just adopted the kid, right?" My partner Sera asked me with a shake of her head. We had been slicing through air traffic in our beat-up patrol craft for the better part of an hour now, a streak of blue in a skybox of gray. "Who'd want a kid that bad, anyways?"

My head dangled just over the edge of the window, picturing how far I'd have to reach out to wrench the perpetrator from the city streets far below. "I can think of a database or two chock full of offenders that'd be very interested in that sort of thing."

"Oh... right."

We both hoped it hadn't come to that, but you never really know. There was some real slime in this city.

The concern lining Sera's face as she manned the wheel was proof enough of that reality. Concern coming from her was like a full blown anxiety attack for the rest of the precinct. She had signed up back when security officers were still expected to wrangle with the cyborg revolutionaries infesting our streets. Outgunned, outmanned, but never outdone.

I had barely been with the force for a year before Sera elected to take me under her wing. Five moon cycles later and the time spent with her had begun to feel like a case to unravel in itself - not that I was ungrateful for her guidance, mind you. Just always got the impression she was better off working alone. She's still got her hang ups about letting me fly the patrol craft to this day. If there's one thing you can bet these old-timers are usually all about, it's making the rookies drive.

All bets were off with Sera, though. She seemed to get her kicks out of ruining rush hour. Traffic lights gleamed in a perpetual frenzy as we cut ourselves between districts, patrol sirens adding fuel to display. This far above the city's surface crime was an unusual occurrence. The 'beacon of hope' towering in the distance was a symbol that tended to keep people in line. Whoever we were dealing with now must've been feeling really lucky or really, really stupid.

Hard to tell which when the orphanage was a rusted-out mess of a building. All I could make of it as we finally pulled in was the durasteel paneling corroded at the seams, the words "Little Steps" scrawled on a burnt-out sign near the roof. The orphanage almost felt out of place here, tucked in a crevice between a corner store and a greenhouse. As far as squalors went, this place still felt like it could have been a hub of activity. Every avenue for a three-klick span fed back in to this place.

You wouldn't have been able to tell this late at night, of course. The starless void had the building better framed as a sanatorium.

We were suitably armed for such, blast-proof vests compressing as we trudged along the broken street. There was a Twi'lek matron stationed at the entrance. One who didn't seem the least bit reassured by our approach.

"I take it you're the police?" She asked us between drags of a cigarette, blue lips quivering in the moonlight.

"Mrs. Quid," Sera responded with a reassuring nod. "I believe we spoke over the phone. I'm Officer Pavish, this is Officer Rhade. We got a call about a missing persons report?"

"A kid," Quid corrected with a puff. "And I damn well know who did it too. There's been a string of these robed hoodlums running around the streets for weeks now. They'd go stalking up and down the boulevard every night for what felt like hours."

"More than one?" I asked with a quirked eyebrow. One robe-clad figure targeting orphans was strange enough, let alone a whole group.

"I have been calling in about them for weeks, you know," she snapped back at my intrigue. "You folks don't seem to take hints until it's already too late to do anything about them."

"We're here now, ma'am," Sera reassured her with a tone that implied I would be off question-duty. Her gaze traveled the length of the building. "Which floor did you say the break-in happened on again?"

"Third floor, east wing," she recited with a tired sigh. "Ran right past me."

"And... the kid?"

"Snatched her right out of my arms, kicking and screaming. Poor Ahsoka. She's not even four years old yet, hardly even been at the orphanage for a month."

"There was no threat of force?" I dared to chime back in again. "Guy just... took the kid and ran?"

"Took the kid and ran," Quid repeated softly. Her hands were shaking. "I never saw its face, you know. Don't even know if it had a face. Bloody thing just towered over me. All covered up like that, might as well have been a ghost."

Sera went to take Quid inside then, spared us all from the inevitable breakdown that was about to happen. As she was doing a sweep of the interior, I did the same for the exterior. All alone in the dark now I could feel myself getting the same chills the Twi'lek had.

Something was definitely off about this place.

My gaze panned to the third floor, trailing to the suspected exit point. Wasn't a hard one to find, not when glass had already been sent shattering in every direction. This psycho seriously ran right through one of the kid's bedrooms. Busted through a sheet of stained glass like it was plastic. At least that debunked Quid's theory of the supernatural. Ghosts couldn't break windows.

Evidently, that was something only large robe-clad kidnappers could do. Of all the get-ups for someone to disguise themselves in a bath robe didn't sound the most convincing. What did I know, though? I had never considered the logistics of breaking into an orphanage before.

Tracing the suspect's exit to an estimated impact wasn't that hard to do, you just had to follow the crystalline mess to its logical conclusion. Whoever the robed kidnapper was, he or she was certainly still humanoid. That three-story leap must've done a real number on their legs, there was a trail of blood leading all the way back to the alley behind the orphanage.

Injured assailant, mysterious back alley. It was all too tempting a lead to pass up. Ordinarily I'd wait for Sera to come back, go and check it out together. Typically, you want to have a buddy with you when you wander through darkened back alleys. Quid was in hysterics though, don't think Sera had a chance of coming back anytime soon.

Time to move.

It was with a bit of reverence that I finally withdrew my IR-5 from its holster. It was a standard-issue pistol, almost every member of the Precinct got one. We had nicknamed them the 'Intimidator', which was lucky because I didn't particularly fit the bill as I soft-shoed through the passage. This particular back alley looked to have doubled as a service tunnel at some point, girders and maintenance hatches tiled up as far as the eye could see.

That wasn't far, mind you.

What little light we had gleaned from the street and moon outside had all but been vanquished from this place. Now there was only the soft hum of steam reverberating from the condensate lines to keep me company. The trail of blood beneath my feet began to grow fainter too, hardly a slither of a vessel at this point. Perhaps Robes had done us all a favor and bled to death.

Before I could celebrate the lack of paperwork I heard a crunch of noise bouncing off the far wall. More glass crumpling in the shadows, more blood dripping into view. A darkened silhouette peering down at me from further up ahead.

I tried to muffle a curse to no avail. Tattered garments lined the outline's body as he peered out at me, heavy breaths looking more like convulsions in the darkened passage. Big, tall, robed, and bleeding. My heart rate had slowed down just enough to form a half-decent hunch about who this guy was. These bozos never could stay away from the scene of the crime for long. Always had to come back to appreciate the fallout.

"This is Officer Rhade of the 77th Precinct. I'm ordering you to stand down," I called out with my pistol in one hand and my heart in the other.

Predictably, he was unpredictable. Didn't make a run for it, didn't take a step forward, didn't make a move at all. It was almost like he was baiting me in. Daring me to come closer. Still feeling wet behind the ears, I decided to take the bait.

One step. Two steps. My boots hardly made a sound, I was walking so slow. Robes was still standing there in his own slice of darkness, huffing and puffing, a hint of bile draining from his lips.

A smarter man would've stopped walking towards him by now. A smarter man would recognize when he's got a wild animal backed into a corner. I wasn't that man.

The Intimidator never leaves my grip, it was the only thing securing what space was left between me and Robes. By the time I stopped approaching there was hardly any space left at all. Just me, him, and a sheet of darkness.

This is where having Sera would have come in handy. She would have known what to do with a suspect that's gone unresponsiveness. For all I knew my next suck of air could be all it would take to set him off.

One exhale confirms the notion, next thing I know he's pushing me back out of his radius. Not with those cinders he calls hands mind you, but with something else. Something invisible. I don't have to see it to know it's seismic, sends me into a half-stumble towards the back wall. The Intimidator comes swinging up in response, drops a warning shot near his shoulder.

I'd like to say that was the end of things. All the sear of plasma really wound up doing was pissing him off.

Now there was a monsoon of wind swirling all around the confines of the passageway, kicking up junk and shards of glass. Fight or flight starts to kick in, I'm rolling towards a dust bin for cover. Another concussive blast catches me in the act, cleans me off my feet. My head hit something hard then, way too hard. Copper pipes whine out in protest as my vision started to blur.

Figures I'd be the one guy dumb enough to corner a magician in a back alley.

There's a hint of my own blood to add to the pool now, goes dripping right down my ear. Robes takes a step forward as I'm still withering about on the ground, trigger-finger too preoccupied with the widening gash on my forehead to put up any form of resistance. He droops down to meet me head-to-head, brushes aside the weak lash I try to throw out in resistance, pistol crashing to the greasy street beside me.

I guess this was how it was going to end. Outgunned, outmanned-

"Alek!"

but never outdone.

The familiar voice booming down the street wasn't as surprising as the laser blast that accompanied it. It catches Robes napping, a chunk of plasma searing right through those tattered rags. The shot to the abdomen leaves him snarling in pain, but he's all ready for the next one, pulls out his final trick as Sera is busy unloading her entire charge pack on him Black Sun-style.

Crimson fire is batted back by a sudden blade of sapphire. The reverb from its snap-hiss is all I need to hear to know what this weapon was. The same blade you'd see at the side of every monk roaming the temple. A lightsaber.

Robes doesn't pull the weapon out lightly, hardly has a chance to pull it out at all. He's forced to start retreating at the sight of concentrated fire, his combined injuries all the harder to cope with when the bullets start flying. He's scampering back down the alleyway, back out of sight, back to whatever hole he's been keeping his victims in.

Sera finally pulls me back to my feet as Robes goes disappearing. It's all I want to do to try and give chase, but the head injury is starting to take its toll. He might have gotten away for now but those last few moments already told me everything I needed to know - our kidnapper was a Jedi.

. . .

One Hour Later

A late night at the precinct building had never felt so damning.

I had an ice pack pressed firmly against my forehead. Sera had taken care of most of my bleeding but there was no managing the swelling. This time tomorrow I was going to have a bump on my head the size of Kessel.

"You never should have gone wandering off on your own," Sera muttered to herself for about the hundredth time.

"I know."

"You should have waited for me. We could have gone in and checked it out together."

"I know, I know."

We were seated in the two chairs right outside of the Chief's office. Felt like detention all over again. At least Sera's lecture was good practice for the shellacking I was about to get inside.

"Did you file the report?" She asked me quietly, a few boneheads side-eyeing us with hushed whispers as they strode on through the lobby.

"Course I did. Did it by the book, wrote up everything I saw."

I can feel her shake her head at the thought. "That's what I was worried about."

Before I could pin down what she meant the Chief's door came swinging open. The smell of cigar smoke wafted the atrium, an elderly Miraluka poking his head through the smog. "Alek, Sera."

Heart in my throat, I rose from my seat.

The Chief was ordinarily the understanding type, but we had stumbled along the one line you were never supposed to cross with him. He was an older man, long silver hair, wrinkled visage, a layer of glaze over his tired gray eyes. All knowing but none-seeing. Not that it mattered much, rumor was his people had 'other' methods of perception.

He employed as much as we took our seats, lit himself a fresh cigarra. The office was a cramped corner room, a stack of datapads and wanted posters towered as high as the eye could see.

His gaze flitted between the two of us for the longest time, only settling on me when I finally adjusted the ice pack. "How's the injury doing, Alek?"

"It's fine, really. Just a bump on the head."

"Tripped up in an alleyway, you said it was?" He offered with a nod of understanding.

I could feel my teeth gritting. "Pushed."

"Right, right..." he murmured with another drag, free hand drifting over the police report. "By an 'invisible force', if I read the words correctly."

"We believe the suspect might have been Force-sensitive, sir," Sera chimed in with a bit of helpful clarification.

"Force-sensitive," he repeated as a hand travelled to a blindfold he had left out on the desk. "Feels like I'd know a thing or two about that. Y'know, if that was what actually happened."

"... Because it was?"

His free hand went to rub the side of his forehead then, the beginnings of a headache. "I'm sure that's what you both think you saw. Dark alleyway, late at night, lots of adrenaline..."

My grip on the armrest was getting tighter. "Chief, he was running right up Lotus Street. We both know the only worthwhile place that leads to is the Temple."

The suggestion sent a hint of edge rushing into the room. "He was trying to lose you, Alek. That was it. All this wild speculation about 'Jedi' this and 'Force' that-"

"He attacked us with a lightsaber. It's right there in the report." I stopped myself short of suggesting he hadn't actually read it. Sometimes felt like 'couldn't read it' was a stronger possibility, but I digress.

Another silence, another long drag of the cigar. "We're already informing the Temple about this little scrap you two had. We'll see what they say and let them keep it in-house if necessary."

The Temple.

"That's the problem," I decided through gritted teeth. "It's all in-house for them, isn't it? This whole damn station might as well be an addendum to the Temple. All we're good for is washing the poodoo off their boots and keeping our mouths shut-"

"That's enough. You're dismissed for the night. Go home and get some sleep."

"But-"

Chief already had a finger jabbed at the door before I could protest more. It was everything I could do just to keep it together as I rose from my seat, marched away with Sera at my side.

The stench of cigar smoke lingered with us all the way out.

. . .

I went home. Didn't get much sleep, though.

Ended up tracing back the route of our chase with the kidnapper on a string of data projectors in my apartment. Lotus Street went through a boulevard that connected right with Galactic Crossing. The Crossing only led in two major directions - the Senate Building and the Jedi Temple.

Jedi or Senator, who'd be more likely to pull off a kidnapping? I'd be willing to peg this all on some overly corrupt politician if it weren't for the fact that I had been pinned down at the point of a lightsaber not even two hours ago. Politicians were too crafty for that sort of thing. And if one thing was becoming clearer by the day, they didn't have nearly as many backdoor dealings going in their favor.

All I could keep picturing was that kid at the orphanage kicking and screaming as she was dragged away by the robed figure. Dragged away by somebody she thought she could trust.

I guess I shouldn't have been surprised by all this. It wasn't unusual for a Jedi to abduct a child. That was something they did everywhere, all across the galaxy. They had Knights whose explicit job was to pinpoint children with strong Force sensitivity and try and take them from their homes.

I would know, my sister had been one of them. The Temple recruiter had talked the big talk back home in the slums. Made it sound like she was making the most noble sacrifice she could ever make. Then you realize she was seven, and seven-year-olds shouldn't have to know the first thing about sacrifice.

Ava had gone with the Jedi willingly that day, though. Trusted them more than she trusted her own parents. We were never notified about her death. Didn't even realize it had happened until years later when I finally pulled up some records at the precinct. Dead at the age of 15. Killed in a riot on some backwater planet we had never heard of before.

Whoever this kidnapper was - Jedi, politician, the Chief's 'little secret', it didn't matter. I was going to find him.

By the time Sera swung by my house to pick me up the next morning I had drawn up an intricate cross-section of the lower west side in red marker. Every nook, corner, back alley, and possible escape point.

She took in my work with an amused smile. "You know, you'd make a great cartographer if this whole police thing doesn't work out."

"I'd be lying if I said I hadn't thought about it," I admitted, feigning humor for frustration.

She strode through the living room, still admiring my handiwork. "Boss says he's going to give us an update on the kidnapping when we get in today. I want you to be mentally prepared if things don't go our way."

"'Our way'?" I parroted back.

"You know what I mean, Alek," she responded with a sigh. "If we don't get the answer we're looking for."

"The only answer I want is when we're going to be authorized to do our job and find this guy."

"Yup," she responded with a nod to her previous suggestion. "That's the one."

I tossed the case of markers back down on the table with a suitably annoyed thud. "Why wouldn't we get that answer? That's what we get paid to do isn't it?"

. . .

Evidently, that was not what we got paid to do.

As the Chief put it, we got paid "to shut up and do as we were told." In this case that meant quietly handling the case over to the Jedi and forgetting we ever saw anything.

"Am I the only one that sees the flaw in that logic?" I hissed at Sera as we stormed back out of his office. "Why would you let the ones who did the kidnapping be the ones to investigate it?"

"They're the ones calling the shots, Alek," she relented with a heavy sigh. "You know the gig, if they call us off, we're off."

Off to settle a zoning conflict, as it were.

We spent the bulk of the afternoon baking in the mid-summer sun, trying to resolve an argument between a two-headed Troig named Du-Al. Twin brothers, conjoined at the hip. How they both managed to own rival construction firms while inhabiting the same body, I'll never know.

They had been stationed on the ground level of the Crossing, entrenched at the middle of an intersection. Crowds spun past us from every corner, a maze of courier droids and businessmen just trying to make it through the daily rat race. Statistically, the only thing more deadly than the air traffic on Coruscant was the foot traffic. We sat there in the crossfire of it all, just trying to avoid getting trampled by every other Gamorean CEO with his entourage of Jawas.

The Troig brothers seemed immune to the commotion of it all by biological birthright. Their species was a bumbling mass of neck and legs that stood head and shoulders above the rest. They had been assigned to construct the first of a string of communication satellites. The presumption was this was all part of some government-mandated outsourcing. Evidently, some sly development worker somewhere had pitted the two brothers against each other in an attempt to get a better contract.

As it stood, they'd be lucky to get a contract at all. With two interconnected heads barking back and forth at each other this was rapidly turning into a toxic shaming session.

"Nerf herder!"

"Mouth-breather!"

"Pencil-neck!"

"We have the same neck!"

I could feel Sera starting to tense up beside me as it went on and on. We had been trying to play mediator for the better part of three hours. It wasn't until I caught her trigger finger gunning for its holster that I finally placed a hand on her shoulder. "Hey, I got this."

"What?" She spat back at me.

"You're getting too old for this shavit, I get it. Just go get the report filed and ready to go. I'll take care of the rest."

The scowl immediately dropped to a hint of relief. "You sure?"

"Yeah, yeah. I'll catch up with you back at the precinct once I've got things resolved."

Sera regarded the two-headed, four-fisted broil of conflict with a shake of her head. "Good luck with that."

She had disappeared into the crowd in the next moment, leaving me there to negotiate with a lifespan's worth of sibling rivalry.

"So... anybody want ice cream?

. . .

Saludi's Plaza had been mine and my sister's favorite ice cream parlor back when we were kids. If there was anything that could solve a sibling rivalry, it was this place.

Our mother had taken us here after every single one of our grav-ball tournaments. We had been the best pair of strikers the junior league had ever seen. It was only years later that I realized my sister had an additional set of skills that had always helped set her apart from the rest.

Those skills could have been applied anywhere, done anything. We had sat in the corner booth for hours and talked about how we wanted to explore the furthest reaches of the galaxy together. I suppose the Jedi granted her wish, in a way.

The Troig brothers pushed past me as we wandered inside, looked at all the different flavors in a frenzied excitement.

"Strawberry!"

"Beebleberry"!

"Vanilla!"

"Chocolate!"

"I wanted chocolate!"

My fists were clenching over my wallet as I looked on at the droid attendant. "You can both get chocolate."

Both their faces flared in disgust. "Get the same thing? That'll never do."

"Sounds horrible."

I had to keep my head on a swivel just to keep up with theirs. "Well, at least we've found something you can both agree on."

Disagreement, as it were.

They each decided on their different flavors and we snugged ourselves into a booth. The same corner booth me and Ava had shared all those years ago.

Today had been a supremely strange one. I was up in blood pressure, down in credits, and none the wiser as to how to make Du-Al both agree on something. Nothing was worse than fighting a suspected Jedi kidnapper in a dark back alley, but this came pretty damn close.

"So," I finally decided. "What's it going to take for one of you two to give up the contract for the communications tower?"

"Communications tower?" Al repeated between slurps of ice cream. "Where'd you hear that one from?"

"From... my boss?"

"Well it ain't a communications towers," he responded with a laugh. "Don't tell anybody you know I said this but I heard it's a listening post."

"Al..." Du hissed in a threatening tone.

Hard to take a threat seriously when it's spoken behind a scoop of blueberry blast. "No, no go on, Al. Who's listening to who?"

Half of the Troig seemed to glow in delight at the prospect of someone actually bothering to hear him out for once. "Well, don't mention that I said this to anyone but a little mynock told me it's the Jedi trying to tap into the Senate Building... or was it the Senate trying to tap into the Temple? Oh, I don't know, they're all just as corrupt as the other at this point anyways, am I right?"

I could feel my hands tensing up. There was that gaping pit in my stomach too, the one you get when you find out something worse about a person you already hated. "I... think I'm going to go check on my partner. I'll be back later."

"Huh?" Al and Du chimed in between licks of their cones. "Yeah alright, take care of yourself-

But I was already leaving. Sprinting back through the streets of Galactic Crossing, gunning right for the beacon of corruption itself. The lines of traffic had begun to die down now, disappeared with the last remnants of sunlight. Now there was only the tired and angry roaming the streets, and I fit in right alongside them.

It didn't take me long to reach the steps of the Temple. It was the first time I had entered the place in years. The first time since I said goodbye to my sister at the steps all those years ago. The first time that anger had overpowered fear long enough for me to dare go back inside. Running up its hallowed steps now had me more on edge than I had ever been the previous night.

My sprint had fallen to a jog by the time I made it inside. The Temple was voluminous, longer than any boardwalk I had ever crossed. Tall columns and ornate tiling was sprawled out as far as the eye could see. Anyone who had you convinced these were modest monks had never bothered to look at their architecture before.

"Welcome to the Jedi Temple, sir," a service droid called as I came storming through. "Tour hours are over for the day, if you'd like to come back tomorrow-"

"Where's the listening post at?"

The droid hesitated through its response formulation. "The comms room is located in the east wing but is strictly forbidden to tourists. If you would like to take a look at our extensive selection of historical artwork, ancient texts, and gift shops-"

"Move."

"But sir!"

I was already marching on past, sifting through the endless hallways. It didn't take long for robed figures of all shapes and sizes to start joining me. They billowed out from the halls, chattering amongst themselves as they filed in alongside. Evidently, dinner had just concluded.

My gaze scoured all along side them, like one of the initiates was going to suddenly peter off and guide me to their illegal spy tower. What I found instead was just as alarming. A robed man dragging a boy through the crowd as tears came streaming down his face.

The man had the same long robes as the night before, the same young child about to be subjugated to a lifetime of fighting and backwards thinking. Ava, Ahsoka... No more. I had my blaster pistol set to stun before I even knew what I was doing.

Stalking the pair through the crowd hadn't been hard, the boy's pleas were only growing louder. The man's grip on his hand had never wavered, only got tighter as he all but yanked the kid across the floor, forced him along with a scowl on his face.

It wasn't until they tried to break free from the crowd that I finally cut them off, Intimidator planted firmly between them and the exit. "Step away from the child."

"What?" The man asked through gritted teeth, the boy trying all the harder to get away from him.

The safety came flicking off my pistol. "Step. Away."

I could feel the man hesitate at the barrel then, go to shelter the boy behind him. The crowd marched on by us, none the wiser.

"What seems to be the problem here?" A deeper voice called out behind me then. An elderly Kel Dor who had poked out from the mass of bodies heading to the dormitory. He had a patch wrapped alongside his rib cage.

I brushed him off, kept the blaster trained on the man before me. "I'm not letting your people forsake one more child."

"You won't be doing-"

PEW!

He had moved as he spoke, lunged out for the gun. I hadn't meant to push the trigger, had done it purely on instinct.

"Master!"

Everything seemed to speed up as the man went stumbling to the ground. It had been set to the stun! I had never meant to the hurt man! Only set the child free. But the engulfing mass of Jedi didn't know that, all they saw was a Jedi Master grasping at the wound in his chest, a pistol in my hand.

This wasn't how it was supposed to be. The robed figure, the small child. It had been just like the kidnapping the night before.

"No, I, I-"

The Kel Dor placed a hand on my shoulder then. "I think you should go."

Even as I pushed free of his grasp, I knew he was right. Only problem was, I didn't know if I'd have anything left to come back to.

Not after this.

. . .

"Suspended indefinitely."

Two words. That's all it took to send my whole life shattering down. I let the fallout wash over me for awhile in the airy din of the Chief's office. Tried in vain to formulate a response. "Boss if you just let me explain, I-"

"There is no justifying this," Chief corrected me with a hard shake of his head. "You've set Jedi-Security relations back a decade with this move, Alek. They're talking about finding an interim police chief just because I let this all happen under my watch."

New police chief? There was no way. "Chief, I-"

"No!" he interrupted me with a pound on his desk. "You get to shut up for once. Your actions have consequences. You wanna go play hero? You should've signed up to serve one of those crime-infested slums on Corellia. They'll gloss right over a power-hungry cop taking matters into his own hand. Not here, though. Not under my watch."

The room went silent then. I had never been reprimanded like that by the Chief before. Had never stepped this far out of line. Damn.

The silence was only broken by the sound of his lighter sparking another cigar to life. "You wanted to be a Jedi, Alek. Just admit it. We all have. Even me."

"What?"

"This gig's not what you thought it was. I get it. Sometimes I wish we weren't so hamstrung ourselves," he paused to take a huff. "You know the difference between guys like us and guys like them? People actually like the Jedi. Imagine that. An authority figure that people feel like they can respect without also having to fear. No worries of being gunned down, of being jailed for looking at one of us the wrong way."

I shook my head. "You almost make it sound like they're doing us all a favor by doing whatever they want."

"Maybe they are."

"We have a confession that the Jedi have been tapping into the data lines surrounding the Senate. They're paying people to do this for them."

"So what?"

"... What?"

"Really. So what? How long is this vendetta against the Jedi going to last, Alek? How long until you realize there's nothing we can do about it?"

I felt an icy chill enter the room then. "You knew about their listening tower the whole time, didn't you?"

All the smoke seemed to go out from his cigar. "... I did."

"And the kidnapping? When did you first know about that?"

There was no immediate response.

"You know what? You're right Chief. There's nothing 'we' can do about it," I finally decided with a nod.

There was plenty I could, though. My mind was made up the second I had left his office for good.

. . .

Four nights.

That's how long I had sat in this ratty hotel room listening to my makeshift police scanner. I had nearly burned through this month's paycheck just paying off the rent. Wasn't like I was getting that promotion anyways, what was the use in showing up to work?

Sera had called me seven times. Chief had called three. Even my mom had tried contacting me after she heard what had happened. But then, she was used to me not picking up.

I had positioned myself up on a sixth-floor balcony. Now I had a bird's eye-view of all the streets leading directly to the Temple. Watching the foot traffic come and go for hours on end had given me plenty of time to think... I didn't regret what I had done. I regretted the consequences that followed, sure. But never the act itself. That Jedi back at the temple had what was coming to him, one way or another.

I had kept tabs on his recovery all the same. It had only ever been a stun blast, he was always going to be fine. He'd just have a bruise on his stomach bigger than the one that was finally starting to settle down on my head.

My feet were propped up against the rails of the balcony, watching as a police droid broke up the third mugging in a row on the city streets far below. Maybe the droids were better than cops like me and Sera. They weren't programmed to operate on hunches or gut feelings, only data. That certainly made them better than the way the Jedi 'sensed' their way through conflicts.

They probably had better ways of finding kidnappers too. The sound of the police scanner crackling static had been my lone companion for the longest time. A string of traffic accidents was its favorite talking point. On and on it'd go until,

"... Suspect inbound on Lotus Street."

Tired eyes glossed back over the map I had pinned back up to the wall. Lotus Street. That was the same road as the Orphanage.

A hit.

I was bounding out of the room without a second thought. There was no Intimidator at my side this time, had to give that and my badge up back at the station. Now there was only a spurt of adrenaline and the intention to put some good back into the world.

I took the stairs three at a time, waved off the concierge as I stormed through the lobby. By the time I broke into the avenue below the chase was on. The police droids were still busily apprehending their mugger as I went racing through the midnight city. Lotus Street connected to the main boulevard, if I could just squeeze through this side alley I'd be able to-

Another "doink!", another hit on the head.

"Kriff!" I hissed back in the moon light. "Going to have a concussion before the night's over."

"Perhaps you already do?" A man's voice suggested from the shadows, garbed in the same robes as all the others. This one didn't take nearly as long to reveal himself as the kidnapper had. A breathing apparatus was lodged over his mottled orange skin as he stepped into the light. My eyes fluttered in recognition despite the haze. He was the same Kel Dor as before, the one that had tried to stop me back at the temple.

I shuffled away, my hand still cupping the fresh trail of blood running down my face. "What do you want from me?"

"Take you to see a doctor, perhaps?" He suggested with a soft chuckle.

I didn't see the humor in the situation.

"I met you the other day, you know," he continued, offering a hand to help me up. "At the Temple. I admired what you tried to do there."

Now I took his hand with a dark chuckle. "Shoot a Jedi in cold blood?"

"Protecting those who you thought were being mistreated. It was a very... noble thing to do. No matter how misguided."

That sent me fuming. "The last thing I need is anymore talk of 'nobility' from your kind."

"No," the Kel Dor conceded with a nod. "I'm sure you don't." He stalked further away then, like he was trying to seal off the exit. "I'm sorry that I attacked you the other night, Alek."

"... How do you know my name?"

"I'm sure you've already managed to piece that together over the last few days."

"Care to return the favor?"

He hesitated at the suggestion, had to think it over awhile. "I am a Master at the Temple. You may call me Plo Koon."

"Plo Koon," I repeated in a hushed whisper, wishing I had the database to run his name up on. "Do you always slink around dark back alleys or is this just a hobby of yours?"

"I was waiting for you."

"For me? Or for someone else?"

Now he went quiet again, had to pick his words all the more carefully. "When I took Ahsoka from the orphanage I want you to know I only did it with the sole intention of helping her."

"By indoctrinating her into your religion?" I asked through gritted teeth.

"There are 900 billion sentient beings crammed onto this small rock of a planet that we have, Alek. There's an unquantifiable chance that each one of them may be attuned with the Force. Most won't be, of course. But some? Some may grow to be as powerful as Master Yoda himself... And that," he decided slowly. "Is not something we can leave up to the whims of how a child may be feeling about our offer that day."

"So you'd rather force them to conform instead," I concluded.

"Believe me, the guilt was eating me up inside. I had to go back, wanted to try and make things right with the orphanage somehow. And then... you approached me."

"Made you scared?"

"Made me certain."

"Certain that you're as corrupt as the evil you vowed to fight against?"

"We all had to be taken from someone, Alek. It's part of the sacrifice we make as Jedi."

"And who asks you to make that decision for others?"

"The Force's Will can not be denied."

"Sure it can. I've been denying its existence my entire life."

He shook his head with a sigh. "Ahsoka and her brothers and sisters were one of the most powerful band of siblings I had ever had the fortune of encountering. By the time I returned from Shili with her she had gotten all tied up in these convoluted children service programs and... Well, you would understand."

"Understand what?"

"Understand when the law can confound what we think is right."

"Better than most," I conceded through gritted teeth. "My sister was among your ranks for a time."

"I knew her," he admitted gently.

"So then you can understand why I have to report you for this. For all of it."

"No, my friend," he responded with another heavy sigh, the lines in his face betraying something sinister. "I'm... afraid I can't let you do that."

"Do what? My job?"

"What's happened here is far too personal. Far too compromising, as much for myself as it is the Order."

The excess adrenaline was still pumping through my veins, rooting me firm in place. "And if I file the report anyways?"

"You won't be filing a report," Plo Koon responded with a simple wave of his hand.

My mind was growing hazy before I even knew what was happening. "I... won't be filing a report."

"You'll go home and forget any of this ever happened."

"I'll-

go-

Home..."

It almost felt right to say each word. Like a heavy burden was being lifted off my shoulders with every syllable. They always did say the Jedi were the best of us.

If there was anyone I could trust to see this through now, it was them.

End